


Self-Inflicted Achromatic

by l3ori



Category: Mahou Shoujo Madoka Magika | Puella Magi Madoka Magica
Genre: A New Universe with Changed Rules, Depression, F/F, Forgiveness, Friendship/Love, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content (at last chapter), Kindness, Magical Girls Losing Their Magic, Oriko Magica Reference, Post-Rebellion Story, Reconciliation, Redemption, Self-Acceptance, Slow Burn, The Different Story Reference
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-17
Updated: 2018-10-11
Packaged: 2019-05-24 08:08:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 30
Words: 113,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14950865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/l3ori/pseuds/l3ori
Summary: They may have defeated Homura and broken the illusion, but that did not mean they get to return to how things used to be."Why do you smile like my existence is a blessing?""Even if this everyday-life is worthless, it's still too early to throw it away."





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do NOT own any of the Puella Magi franchise.  
> Preface: I want to write a story about grace, forgiveness, and kindness.  
> Also, feedback/review/criticism is highly appreciated.

**[Part 1]**

 

At the peak of its popularity, the cathedral was filled with devotees. In those days, daylight painted everyone with the grace of God through stained glass. Be it the benevolence of the Father, the birth of purity, the suffering of Christ, or the promised paradise.

“I’m back.” Kyoko muttered to the broken glasses on the floor.

She used to stand among the pews after sermons, watching her pastor father sending off the gratified crowd. It must be the same kind of awe and love the apostles felt toward the Savior. She figured. She found contentment in being the first person he saw after a day of spreading the words of the Lord. Her face mirrored his own, glowing in the fading dusk.

Now the glory had been depleted, the crowd was replaced by dust. Time ate away coats of polish on the benches, eroding them like cavities.

The thought made her tooth throb hotly. She drew from her magical reserve and stopped it from spreading. The act had become second-nature. She no longer had to think as she walked towards the trapdoor at the back.

In those days, even the basement of the church was filled with light. Colored by the warm radiance of his candle. In those days, she dared to believe she was one of the apostles, sacrificing herself for a greater good. For truth.

Presently, she was descending down the steps to the basement in near darkness. Even with the windows shattered, the light of day could not reach here. It was nothing strange, Kyoko reflected, no one trimmed the trees at the back, nor the overgrown grass. Everything was abandoned. Everything was hidden.

And her Soul Gem, the only source of luminescence, was but a poor imitation to the candle.

She stopped after reaching the bottom of the stairs. Silence overtook her ears again, oppressing. She took a deep breath, and called out.

“Yuma?”

If she wasn’t a Puella Magi, she might have missed the soft padding approaching her. A small face emerged from the darkness, looking up to her, eyes sparkling.

“Welcome back, Kyoko.”

Chitose Yuma’s face was bathed in the red aura of her Soul Gem. Kyoko let her gaze linger for a moment, reminding herself why she was keeping the girl here. Why she had come back at all.

She wasn’t just any apostle. She was Judas.

Then she removed the crimson from sight and drew a box from the paper bag she was carrying. Yuma’s tiny hands nearly missed the box. Kyoko heard a small yelp.

“It’s not much.” She explained. “There wasn’t a lot of people on the street. Mostly in groups. So…”

Her voice trailed off at the ripping of cardboard and the rustling of paper. She waited. Soft crunches echoed like thunder in the otherwise empty room.

“Hmmmmmm.” Yuma sighed. “Strawberry flavor!”

At that, Kyoko allowed her lips to curl upward. Nobody would see it. “Don’t drop any crumbs.” She warned half-heartedly.

By the small bounce traveling further and further away, Yuma was enjoying the snack too much to respond.

Kyoko followed behind, twice as slow as her younger companion. She knew the layout well, and was not worried of any potential of tripping or misjudging distances.

As expected, the clapping of her boots became muffled by the thirteenth step, landing on something airy and shifty. She sat down on the sleeping bag she stole a few weeks ago, and fished her own dinner out of the paper bag.

“She came by again.” Yuma informed her over a mouthful of crushed biscuit.

Kyoko chewed as she considered. She swallowed before she asked. “Did she see you?”

“Of course not!” Yuma pouted. “I was good. I did what you said.”

Kyoko might have patted her head to calm her agitation, if she was not so engrossed in her thoughts. No, actually that was a lie. She would do no such thing.

“Anything new?”

“No. She didn’t try the basement this time.” Kyoko frowned at the disappointment in Yuma’s voice, but did not interrupt. She was chewing again, and did not want to risk any of the nutrition escaping. “Stayed up there. I think around the altar.”

A former devout, perhaps? Kyoko wondered. Probably just recently went through some life-changing event, remembered the old pastor they used to zealously believed in, and came to find some answers.

But that would pass, wouldn’t it? Once they lost interest of the past, they would carry on with their life. They would view the past as an old oil painting, faded beyond recognition, and store it in the attic of their memories.

“She looked your age.”

“I thought you stayed away like we talked about.”

“It was before that.” Yuma protested again. “I just never brought it up. She looked your age. I don’t recognize the uniform.”

“Uh huh.”

“When she got here she looked… nervous. Kept looking around.” Yuma quieted. If not for the walls bouncing back the words, Kyoko might not have understand it. “When she left, she’s… she’s…”

Kyoko put away the empty box. Yuma’s tone said it all. She almost spat out. _What do you want me to do?_

She couldn’t do anything. That’s the reality. Whoever it was, whatever they sought, Kyoko couldn’t help them. The pastor died long ago, and took away all the salvation this church could offer.

 _Hell._ She thought to herself. _I could barely save ourselves._

They sat in silence until Yuma finished her meager meal. The young girl crawled into the makeshift bed and fell asleep almost immediately. Kyoko sat by her, imagining the peace and serenity Yuma could only find in dreams. Soft bed. Warm food. Plentiful of laughter. Or perhaps it was the mutilated corpses of her parents that came to visit.

She stopped her guessing and lied down beside her, staring at the never-changing darkness. Everything began looking the same after a while, and as long as she did not think too hard, as long as she didn’t realize the weight, she could carry on.

 _Now I lay her down to sleep,_ _  
_ _I pray the Lord her soul to keep._ _  
_ _If she should die before I wake,_   
I pray the Lord her soul to take.

She closed her eyes. It changed nothing.

 

Yuma was still snoozing when morning arrived the next day. Kyoko could see her silhouette, and feel the tiny ball of barely distinguishable warmth curled up beside her.

Yuma had a habit of trapping Kyoko’s shoulder with her head during the night. First time it occured, Kyoko jolted up and nearly drove her spear through the tiny bundle. Now she got used to it, she only woke when Yuma’s skull accidently bumped into her chin, or when she was restless to begin with.

She sighed and gently extracted herself from underneath Yuma’s sleeping form. Too slowly and too carefully for someone she was not supposed to care about.

Aside from her stiff back, Kyoko felt fairly refreshed. She got up, patted the dirt from her cloth - not that it would make any difference - and started considering the route she would take today. The main street was usually crowded with couples or families or groups of friends. Summer was coming. It would make her work a tad more difficult.

Where should she go today? Fifth Street? No, too many delinquents looking for trouble there. The police department was getting more active patrolling around the industrial district as well, much to her annoyance.

She climbed the stairs as she considered which section of this rotten city would be most profitable.

What about the park? If it was still early enough, maybe she would catch some joggers unaware… hmm.

She ended up wandering with no particular direction again, just letting her feet, the crowd, and perhaps the wind, take her wherever they willed.

 

Kyoko threw the fifth wallet she found that afternoon into the nearby trash can with distaste.

Seriously, everyone was switching to digital currency nowadays. She could barely scrape together ten dollars in cash. It wasn’t a big problem before, but ever since Yuma joined her, the risk became too great for Kyoko to continue using the plastic cards. Various scenarios played in her head of someone finding Yuma and turning her in to social service. She cracked her knuckles in agitation.

Still, she had a mouth to feed, and she would prefer this part of her work to be done as quickly as possible. After all, hunting Wraiths required her to commit a lot of time and energy. Giving them all her attention would be a must.

She folded her arms over her chest and began looking for her next target. Her fingers drummed against her hoodie in irregular beats.

She couldn’t stop thinking. The thoughts always came back to her. If not of Yuma being taken away to some abusive home (once was already too much, so no thank you), then the phantom lights dancing on the church floor. Or in today’s case, the mysterious person who kept visiting the ruined church. _Her_ church.

“Just stop already.” She told the faceless shadow in her mind. “You won’t find it here.”

The shadow jumped in surprise, then turned to smile at her. Like she was wrong. Like they had any right to tell her she was wrong.

Kyoko stood upright, tense. She began following the hiking trail of the park, hands stuffed in her pocket. A gnawing pain in her stomach. She needed to find her next target. Maybe if she just settled on the next couple running past-

Her Soul Gem burned.

Kyoko stopped in her track and took it out. She squinted hard against the light. No.

Two people jogged by. Young man and woman in their late twenties, shooting her curious look. What Kyoko wished for moments ago. She ignored them.

No.

Kyoko turned around and began to sprint, not taking to the street where she had entered. Her feet trampled on natural ground. A ‘please keep off flowers’ sign rattled as she passed, objecting.

She planned for the journey ahead. There was a small pond she could easily cross using the surrounding trees as springboard. After that, some low apartment buildings would stand in the way like soccer players facing a penalty shot. But they posted no challenge to a skilled climber like herself. Once beyond the condos, it would be only a matter of traversing through the small forest marking Kazamino’s border.

Unlike in fairy tales, where forests were often associated with lurking dangers and blood-stained fangs. Kyoko had always found comfort in the peaceful, quiet land of growth.

However, as she tried to picture secretive paths marked only by the sparsity of grass, her mind drew only images of flaming leaves, fallen trees, and a tiny face buried under bewitched followers of her father’s words, eager to offer the sacrifice to cleanse the curse of her.

 

As a magical girl, it’s easy to save lives.

She was more agile than even the most achieving athlete. Stronger than construction cranes. She could slow the fall of someone jumping off the roof better than any existing rescue cushion. She could slice through bullets barreling towards a head. Her body could endure extreme temperature, and survive long duration without oxygen.

Saving lives is easy.

Protecting lives, on the other hand, is almost as difficult as a blind man flying an instrument-less airplane. One fumbles for control in the dark, always questioning whether they were veering off track. Always expecting something would sent the iron bird spiraling to the ground.

As her spear sheared the torsos of five Wraiths, Kyoko felt she just barely pulled the yoke in time to ease the plummet. The turbulence that juttered her from her course abated.

Beds of dust and dirt resting against the interior of the church were excited by the battle, and still danced fervently in the afternoon sun long after Kyoko rushed off to the destroyed trapdoor. Most stayed and whispered among themselves, exchanging their own views on the development. Some escaped through broken windows, eager to spread the latest gossip.

Kyoko was too busy demolishing the half-collapsed section of the church floor to pay that any attention. Her temper was barely kept in check as she removed the obstacle, and blazed like the shock of a thousand dynamites synchronized when she discovered three Wraiths standing in semi-circle, like a cult caught during blood ritual. With a fierce cry, she broke her spear in thirteen segments.

The golden python struck, folding one prey in its deathly embrace, slamming the next aside with crushing force, and sank its fangs in the last venomously. Again and again.

The predator-turned-prey struggled in vain, hollering quietly as their bodies disintegrated.

Kyoko did not relent even when her victory was secured. She continued commanding her spear to squeeze. To beat. To hack. To maim. To hurt, if they could feel any pain. They may be Wraiths, but she was the apostate. The garroter of faith.

She stopped reluctantly when there was no more to be shattered, with disgusted wistfulness. Her maroon outfit was cast away with her spear. She looked about in the dark.

“Yuma.”

For the berserk state she was in merely moment ago, the call was astonishingly tender.

“It’s alright.” She called again, turning slowly in circle. “You can come out now.”

But there was no frightened whimper, nor rustling of fabric, let along hesitant pattering of feet.

“Yuma?”

Anxious, she held up her Soul Gem and willed her vision to pierce through the veils of darkness. Her mind raced faster than her heartbeats. Maybe Yuma ran out when the Wraiths came. Maybe she even passed her in the forest. Maybe…

Kyoko froze. A small lump peeked out from behind one of the pillars. She couldn’t tell whether the red was from the glow of her Soul Gem, or… or…

“Oi, Yuma!”

The gem transformed into a ring with a simple thought. But Kyoko found it much harder to convince herself that she imagined the gash marring that pale, soft little neck. It was not real. There was no way she could’ve seen anything with Yuma curled up and tucked away. It was not real.

Kyoko kneeled beside the still unmoving girl, hands wavering in midair similar to the twitching nose of a rabbit. Then they gently but urgently turned her over.

She's still breathing. Kyoko let out a shaky sigh. There was no cut stretching from side to side, leaking her fountain of life. Yuma was still alive and breathing - albeit shallowly, hanging by a thread.

Saving a live is so easy, but protecting it is so hard.

“Can you hear me?” She pulled the girl higher in her arm, standing.

Yuma whimpered in affirmation.

“Okay. Okay. Hang in there.” Kyoko held her, starting for the stairs. “You did great, kid. I'll get you to somewhere safe. To…”

She trailed off, at complete loss of what the next word should be. Where do you take someone magically wounded? Could the hospital even help? Kyoko doubted it. She and Yuma both knew what people influenced by corruption looked like to normal eyes. Homicidal rage and bottomless despair manifested through actions, fitting so well to what society understood as mental breakdown. Except no medicine could cure the corrupted. So long as the Wraiths exist to feast, they would continue deteriorate. There would be no help from science, a miracle on its own.

Besides, even if they could, how was she to pay for it? And what if they started asking all the wrong questions? What if they took her away? Separate them?

A trip to any kind of official facility was almost guaranteed to devolve into a catastrophe. No. If she wanted to save Yuma, she would have to find someone who knew how to heal magical wound. She'd have to find someone with magic. Someone like…

Dread seeped down her throat, thick as tree sap, gravitating and eroding the pit of her stomach, filling her boots with cement.

Could she?

Yuma coughed, startling her. She hadn't realized her pace slowed almost to a halt. Now she stood between the floors, torso protruding on the altar, waist still buried in the dungeon below.

She couldn't stop or even slow now. Not while Yuma still needed help. Whatever may come, she'd just have to find a way to fight through, like she always did.

Kyoko was almost at the gate when it swung inward unexpectedly.

The possibility of it was so remote, it took her an entire second to process the widened blue eyes, slightly parted lips, and swaying short hairs. Someone had come to this church. Found her.

She leapt back like a wolf burned by flying cinders of campfire, and all but growled, baring her canine teeth.

“Who are you?” She demanded. “What are you doing here?”

Then she remembered the girl Yuma kept going on about. The disturber of dead past. The seeker of unknown treasure. The stranger she dismissed as mere another traveller walking the road of grief.

But there was more to her than that, wasn’t there? Why had it not occurred to her?

Her ring transformed back to its true shape. After a rage-filled flash, Kyoko was once again donned in her magical girl outfit.

The blue-haired girl waved frantically as the golden spear materialized and pressed to her chin.

“Wa-wait! Kyoko-”

“How did you know my name?!”

“I-” The blue-haired girl winced, and swallowed. “It’s a long story. I- I think we should-” Her eyes drifted down with a frown, tracing the blade of the spear up to the shaft, then to the bundle in Kyoko’s arms. “Wait, is that-”

Kyoko took a step back but kept the spear up. She didn’t know or trust this person. If she was also a Puella Magi, who’s to say she wouldn’t stab her in the back at first chance? She had been on the street and in this business long enough to know not all psychotic murderers looked or acted insane.

“Kyo-” The girl stopped herself, pursing her lips. She offered quietly. “I can help.”

“I don’t need-”

“Maybe you don’t.” The blue eyes hardened. “But she does.”

Kyoko glared at her, as if daring the girl to take Yuma from her. That, Kyoko could promise, would cost her.

But instead of rising to the challenge, the girl lowered herself to the ground, sitting on her heels. “Come on. Let me help.” She patted the front of her uniform skirt. “Please let me help.”

Despite her instinct screaming for her to run, her body obeyed readily. Slowly, she kneeled once again to lay her charge comfortably pillowing the stranger’s lap. She kept her eyes on the girl, alert and fully prepared for any sudden movement. At this distance, she could thrust her spear in her heart without effort. The girl would be dead before she could even blink, if she meant them harm.

The girl sat in perfect stillness, patiently waiting. Her eyes were not on Kyoko then, but instead Yuma.

“Can I start now?”

“Wait.” Kyoko shifted her position so that she could get a better view at the operation while still keeping her spear against the girl’s neck. Once she’s satisfied, she applied a little pressure. “If I don’t like what I’m seeing…”

The girl rolled her eyes. Slowly, like a magician performing her trick, she raised her hand up slowly to her hair, and took off one of the two yellow hairpins. Some stray locks took the opportunity to advance, but did not get much further. Kyoko looked on, more confused than concerned. How was hairpins going to help Yuma?

The girl lowered her hand to Yuma, and closed her eyes. Kyoko almost panicked prematurely. But she kept her cool, forcing her hands to stay steady as the hairpin started glowing a soft blue. And was that musical notes?

Yuma snuggled closer to the blue light. The small frown locking her brows together gradually untangled themselves.

The girl continued to work. And Kyoko continued to watch.

It must have lasted only a few minutes at most, but time seemed to slow around the blue radiance. Kyoko observed the frown ease to neutral, then eventually flipped from its original shape. Her breathing too, shallow and raspy at first, eased to a slow and peaceful rhythm.

Kyoko had never seen someone with such powerful healing magic. Not even her former mentor, who seemed to excel in all aspects of being a magical girl.

“There.”

Kyoko realized she was staring when the girl looked up to her with a soft smile. She simply stared back, unable to move or speak. The first motion she managed after she overcame herself was turning away.

Then, she remembered where she was, and why her hands were still outstretched. The point of the spear barely pressuring the stranger’s neck.

She bit the inside of her cheek. The golden spear dissolved in heatless flame.

“Thanks.” She mumbled, kneeling down for the third time that day. She took Yuma from the strange girl’s lap and held her up like bag of sand.

The girl waited until she was done before standing up herself. She dusted her skirt carelessly.

“I did what I could.” She told Kyoko apologetically. “But she still needs help.”

“We’re not going to the hospital.” Kyoko tried to stare her down. “Look, I appreciate-”

“Not the hospital, silly.” The girl interrupted like she didn’t even notice the attempt to brush her off. “She needs magic. Real magic.”

Kyoko frowned. This girl must be up to something. But what could it be? Did she do something to Yuma that she didn’t realize? Depending on the wish, a Puella Magi’s magic could manifest in many forms. Some grew as their desire and experience advanced. Some could be used differently than they were originally intended for. And some withered and died.

“What do you mean, ‘real magic’?”

“A Puella Magi’s magic.” The girl turned, going through the door she opened. “Come on. It’s not that far.”

Kyoko debated whether she should try to fight. Then her mind caught up to one important detail.

“Wait, that almost sounds like you…”

“That’s right. I’m not a Puella Magi.” The girl looked over her shoulder to her, winking playfully. Her hands folded behind her like Kyoko had seen from other schoolgirls on the street, but the common innocent exuberance was amiss from this blue-haired girl. “I can’t fight. I can’t even see Wraiths or Kyuubey. It’s stupid.”

Kyoko didn’t know how to respond to that, so instead she asked. “Then how did you do… that?”

The girl chuckled and threw something to her. It sailed through the air in a small arc. Kyoko caught it and opened her palm. The yellow hairpin.

“What do you feel?”

“Lingering magic.” Kyoko stared at it awhile longer. The scent was faint, like the salty wind blowing from the ocean onto a mountain. “Almost gone. Did you use it to store your magic?”

The girl did not answer, instead pulling the remaining hairpin down and tossing it also. “How about this one?”

Kyoko caught it with the same hand. This time she could feel the unmistakable pulse of magic. Much stronger. She looked back to the girl, and her jaw dropped an inch.

The girl was now walking backwards, her back against the afternoon sun. Kyoko wanted to tell her she would trip.

“As you see. I have barely any magic myself.”

But that’s impossible. No, not impossible. It was just unheard of. She knew other Puella Magi who stored their excess magic for rainy days. Kyoko herself did that too whenever she could. But she was a Puella Magi.

Could this girl really just be a regular civilian?

“It wasn’t always like this.” The girl explained. “I lost the ability to manifest magic naturally. They had to be done through a medium, like those hairpins. I kept several items around me to store them.”

“Does it replenish?”

“Very slowly.” The girl shrugged. “Those two hairpins took… five? Six years?”

 _And you used it on someone you barely know._ Kyoko felt a pressure building inside. She wanted to punch her.

“What happens when you use it all up?” But since punching someone you owe a great debt to was considered rather rude, she asked. Maybe this idiot would take a hint from her stone cold voice and understand she had done something extraordinarily moronic.

“I don’t know.” The girl’s smile turned sheepish. “I’ve never tried it. Maybe it won’t be good.”

In all likelihood, she’d die like any Puella Magi who used up all their magic. Kyoko stopped, and let the insult slip without even trying to stop it. “Are you fucking stupid?”

“What’d you call me stupid for?” The girl pouted, stopping as well.

“You traded three years of your live for… for…” Her attempt to gesture herself and Yuma came a bit awkward because of how she was holding the child up. “People you don’t even know. That’s a classic example of stupidity. Dumbass.”

“It was the right thing to do.” The girl protested. “And who are you calling a dumbass!”

“You of course, dumbass.” She reassured her. “Sheesh, and there I thought idiocracy was still five centuries away.”

The girl pointed a shaky finger at her, fuming. “You… you…”

“What, dumbass?”

“Stop calling me that!” She stomped over to Kyoko, her hands flying up. Kyoko was ready to dodge the fist, but instead, she found the hands gripping her shoulder.

“Or what?” She taunted.

“I have a name.” The girl tightened her grips. It was too weak to hurt. She was too weak to stop her. But her gaze was intense enough to hold Kyoko there for a moment. “And you will say it. It's Sayaka. Miki Sayaka.”

Kyoko tested the name in her mind, and found a kind of comfort one got from singing old tunes they learned from their parents. But she wasn’t going to let this blockhead know.

“Dumbass suits you better.”

“Urrrrrrrrgh.” Sayaka let out a frustrated noise, before turning and walking away.

Kyoko stayed. _This girl would get herself killed one day._ She thought. _I’m not going to be there to see it._

Like she could hear her thoughts, Sayaka halted and looked back. “What’re you waiting for?”

“Ha?”

“I told you we need to get your friend to a Puella Magi.” Sayaka was still pouting, but her frustration had mostly dissipated. “So hurry up.”

Kyoko shifted on her feet. She nearly forgot because Yuma was now slumbering peacefully in her arms, but she was far from being okay. In all honesty, Kyoko was the idiot for offending the only person helping them. She moved Yuma onto her back to be carried more easily.

“Oi.” She said as she came up, few steps behind Sayaka.

“I told you, I have a name.”

Kyoko looked ahead. “Why are you helping us?”

Sayaka turned back to the road, smiling at nothing. The sun deflected off her chin. Some of its warmth, some of Sayaka’s warmth, reached Kyoko.

“For myself.”

 

She knew this street - Kyoko realized as they passed a lamppost.

She recognized the park covered in the breezy night’s veil, the fences standing sentry on two rows, and the round-shaped parterre housing a lone tree. She recognized them because they remained timeless. Maybe what's built of solid and real things was less prone to change.

Her shadow, stretched long on the sidewalk, touched the outer bound of the park, then shrank back as the street light flickered.

“Where exactly are you taking us?” She asked as she pushed Yuma higher on her back.

“That building there.” The blue-haired girl pointed.

It was a clean apartment complex consisted of seven stacked floor. One could not see the residents coming out of their abode from the ground, but Kyoko had no trouble picturing the open hallway wide enough for three grown men walking abreast. The clear-glass elevator starting at the beginning of the building. The electronically controlled windows covering a third of the living room walll, facing sunset.

“She’ll be waiting for us.” Sayaka said.

Kyoko wanted to run away. She wanted to leave it all behind and carry Yuma where none of their past would ever haunt them. Could such place even exist? Was there any place on this planet where she could forgive herself? She brooded as they walked through the last few blocks.

“Kyoko.” Sayaka slowed her pace so that she was walking beside the redhead. “It’s alright. Everything’s gonna be alright.”

Kyoko didn't believe it.

As they approached the familiar apartment, Kyoko spotted a tiny figure at the entrance. The child perked up when she noticed them. Kyoko paused briefly, suddenly hopeful again.

“Kyoko, this is Momoe Nagisa.” Sayaka said as the girl bowed politely.

She looked like a good kid. Kyoko decided. Close to Yuma’s age. Maybe they could even become friends. She didn’t want to drag Yuma into the cruel reality of Puella Magi, but maybe she could let Yuma befriend her. Maybe she could give her just a taste of what a normal childhood feel like.

“Nice to meet you. My name is Sakura Kyoko.”

“I know.” Nagisa smiled up to her. “You must be tired after such long walk. Please, come on up.”

“Thanks.” Kyoko returned the friendly gesture. She lowered herself to the ground so as to show Yuma’s sleeping face. “This here is Yuma. I hope the two of you will get along.”

Nagisa’s eyes lit up in childish delight. “I have no doubt.”

Kyoko followed Nagisa into the building, and Sayaka followed Kyoko. Kyoko wasn’t sure why, but there was a mischievous smile on the blue-haired girl’s face, softened by the distant glow of the street light.

The ride up was filled with silence. Kyoko passed the time by looking out to the city. It had been such a long time since she saw Mitakihara from such vantage. Everything was much closer. The light and shadow contrasted deeply. She wondered whether anyone in this city had changed like she did.

She emerged from her thoughts when the elevator gave a soft ding. Her eyes darted to the stainless steel door. It whooshed and parted.

Someone stood beyond those doors. Kyoko froze.

A pair of golden eyes met hers, wide in shock. They were as unbearable as ever to look at.

“Sakura-san…”

She sucked in a deep breath.

“It’s been a while.” Kyoko greeted her former mentor. “Mami.”

 


	2. Chapter 2

Sayaka sat by the triangular coffee table, sipping her tea. Kyoko observed her through the reflection of the window. She must have known her history with Mami, or else she would not misdirect her.

Was it misdirection, though? Kyoko tried to remember whether she asked who the Puella Magi they would meet was, and could not remember such instance. It couldn’t be helped. She was juggling her worry towards Yuma and her caution with Sayaka. She reprimanded herself. It was an emergency, sure, but she trusted this stranger too quickly.

The bedroom door opened. Mami was giving instructions as she walked out.

“We'll be right outside. Call out if you need me.”

Kyoko spun around. She saw the cream-haired child nodding by a bed, and Yuma, tucked all the way up to her chin. The door shut. Her eyes wandered to Mami’s.

“She will be alright.” Mami met her with a calm smile. “I reckon she’ll wake up quite early tomorrow.”

Kyoko watched her with critical eyes. Despite the serene exterior, she knew Mami to be a lonely person. A showman too invested in her own spectacle. It would be best to challenge instead of applaud her act.

“Why don’t you sit down, Sakura-san?” Mami invited, pouring tea into the cups meant for herself and another for Kyoko. “We have quite a few things to go over, I believe.”

“I’m good, thanks.”

“Very well.” A brief flash of disappointment clouded her expression, but she quickly recovered. “Miki-san, you have used one of your accessories, correct?”

“Yeah.”

Sayaka had put the hairpins back once Kyoko remembered to return them, giggling unconcernedly as she asked her how she looked. It bothered Kyoko to no end. What if she didn’t remember to give those back? Or refused to? Granted, she’s never heard of Puella Magi stealing another’s magic, but Sayaka wasn’t one, why shouldn’t it be a possibility? 

“Ah, I see. The situation must be dire then.” Mami gave her approval over a sip of the tea. “You likely saved her live. And it also helped when I performed the procedure. In fact, I had only to clean out three corruptions. It’s a shame you have to rely on the accessories to store magic.”

Kyoko’s temper flared.

“I thought I’d missed a couple spots. I couldn’t quite see where they were.” Sayaka confessed, rubbing the back of her head with a sheepish laugh. “So I kind of just let it do its own thing.”

“It couldn’t be helped, given your condition. You did phenomenally-”

“You shouldn’t compliment her for being stupid.” Kyoko cut in.

They both turned to her. Sayaka looked like she was about to protest, but Mami evidently anticipated her response.

“And why would it be stupid?” She held the cup in relaxed stillness. “Miki-san saved the girl- Yuma-chan, is it?”

Kyoko met Sayaka’s eyes. “And one day I’ll repay the debt.”

Sayaka opened her mouth to say something, then promptly shut it. She looked away, upset.

Kyoko turned back to Mami with renewed ferocity. “But that’s god nothing to do with how stupid she acted.”

“I don’t see how-”

“What’s gonna happen if she uses up all her stored magic?”

Nobody could answer. Kyoko didn’t have to tell them what she thought would happen. The possibility was so painfully obvious to the other two as well.

Mami lowered her cup onto the saucer. “Sakura-san-”

Kyoko turned back to the window, looking out to the neon signs attached to faraway buildings. She wondered who was the island and who was the unmoored boat.

“Is that all you need to talk to me about?”

“…no.” Mami’s reflection looked down to the tea. The beverage was dyed purple by the night.

Or maybe they were all just drifting planks.

“I noticed… things when I was healing her.”

Kyoko was prepared for the question, but she still took the moment to put the memories back in a box and slam the cover shut. “She had it rough.”

“As did you.”

Was this really Mami? Kyoko wondered. The statement was tactless, unreserved. If she didn’t just save Yuma’s live, Kyoko might consider lashing out and expose her. She still did consider it, but she suppressed the urge.

She noticed Sayaka looking at her back. Her face was an open book. One glance told Kyoko the small frown did not originate from confusion. Just like she suspected.

To both of them, silence was all she had to say.

“Anyway.” Mami sighed. “Even though Yuma-chan’s healed of her injuries, I’m afraid the issue of malnutrition needs to be addressed immediately.”

The “I can” almost slipped out before she could hold back. Kyoko balled her fist.

No. Now was not the time to hold on to her pride. She knew she couldn’t provide for Yuma. She was feeding her junk food, keeping her in a dungeon without heat or water or proper hygiene. Even if the Wraiths didn’t kill her, Yuma couldn’t live long under that living arrangement.

Mami likely didn’t mean to denounce her, but she didn’t have to. Any amount of reflection would bring about the same conclusion, that Kyoko’s effort was inadequate.

But she didn’t know what else to do. How was a teenager with no home, no wealth, and only half-working magic supposed to support a child?

“How about this?” Sayaka piped up. “Mami-san is probably the most knowledgeable between the three of us when it comes to taking care of kids. We can keep Yuma-chan here, at least until she’s strong again.”

Kyoko whipped around. She didn’t take Sayaka as one to make such intrusive suggestion.“But she’s already got-”

“That’s a fantastic idea!” Mami clapped her hands together with a brilliant smile. By the way she agreed all too eagerly, Kyoko could tell she was going to ask anyway. “I’m sure Nagisa-chan will also enjoy the company.”

“But you-”

“I will be delighted if you allow Yuma-chan to stay, Sakura-san.”

People like her shouldn’t be allowed to make decisions that could affect their own well-being. They were as blind as schoolgirl in love. They couldn’t see far enough to know what’s good for them.

But then again, Kyoko had never been in love. So who’s to say she knew any better?

“Won’t you let her stay, Kyoko?” Sayaka tilted her head. What might have passed off as innocent curiosity came across as extortion with the mischievous glint in her eyes. “I mean, is there any reason not to?”

“Yuma-chan can stay in Nagisa-chan’s room.” Mami supplied helpfully.

“And there’s a lot of food.”

“Not to mention all this space - it won’t be any trouble, really.”

“I get it! I get it already.” Kyoko whipped around, glaring daggers at both smiling girls. The exhaustion of the day caught up to her. She sighed. “Fine. Yuma’ll stay.”

“That’s great! I promise I’ll take care of her.” Mami made to stand. “It’s quite late. Why don’t I go prepare your room-”

“Whoa. Hold up there.” In a few steps, Kyoko stood in Mami’s personal space such that she would bump into her if she continued to rise. “Who said I’m staying?”

“But Yuma-chan…”

Kyoko snorted. “I said she can stay. Because she needs it. But I don’t need anything. There’s no reason I should stay, is there?”

Mami clearly thought there was, but they both knew she couldn’t speak them aloud.

“Then where are you going to sleep?”

“I’m not tired.” The lie itself might not be convincing, but her glare was.

“But what about later, when you do get tired? Where will you rest?”

“That’s none of your business.”

“Things can get complicated if you get into trouble, you know.”

Kyoko almost retorted with ‘only if I get caught’, before she remembered there was really no reason why she had to explain herself. Instead she said simply. “I don’t get into troubles.”

The raised eyebrows suggested skepticism, whether to her ability or the statement in general was anyone’s guess. Kyoko still wasn’t comfortable with the idea Sayaka knew her more than any average acquaintance had a right to be, and more so that she could be hiding something.

She moved swiftly to the door. “Anyway, that’s enough for today. I’ll be back tomorrow morning to check on Yuma.”

“I should go too.” Sayaka drank the remainder of her tea in one large gulp. She smiled apologetically at Mami and got up hurriedly so as not to lose sight of Kyoko. “Thank you, Mami-san.”

“There is no need for thanks.”

And there again was the lonely smile Kyoko remembered. Mami remained by the table, holding her teacup. It was probably cold by this point.

“But you are welcome.”

 

* * *

 

“Why are you following me?”

“Are you going to sleep in a park or something?”

“I told you that’s my business.”

Sayaka hummed thoughtfully, like she couldn’t get a hint Kyoko wanted to be left alone. “You know, there’s this apartment you can use.”

“Ha?”

“‘Cuz you won’t accept it if I offer to let you sleep at my place, will you?” Sayaka hopped from one foot to another, skipping over five bricks. “So there’s this empty apartment I know. You’ll probably like it.”

“I don’t need charity.”

“How is it charity if the place is empty?” Sayaka’s tone gained an edge of etherealness. “Right? If there’s no one there anymore. If there’s never anyone there…”

“Oi.”

“Hmmm?” Sayaka looked over her shoulder, with the same easy smile Kyoko had come to associate her with. “And start calling people by their name. It’s really rude to just say ‘oi’.”

“Shut up.” She said with far less bite than she normally did. “I’ll take a look at the place. Doesn’t mean I’ll end up staying.”

Sayaka’s smile widened. It was too bright to look at. “That’s all I ask. Give it a chance.”

Kyoko walked up beside her, but kept a good distance between them.

“So where’s it? Let’s get it over with.”

“Why? Got some other plan?”

“You can say that.” She didn’t see why she should hide it. “Mitakihara is a great hunting ground. I plan to make use of it.”

Sayaka frowned. Kyoko took it as dismay at her for taking advantage of Mami’s absence.

“Look, as much as I appreciate Mami for looking after Yuma. I made no promise I’d-”

“I’m coming with you.”

Kyoko thought she heard wrong. Until Sayaka repeated again, more slowly, but also more stubbornly.

“…haaa?”

She shouldn’t have said a thing. But by now it was too late. Sayaka looked like she was ready to put a leash on her or something equally insane.

“How big of an idiot are you?” She spat angrily. “You couldn’t see Wraiths, right? Why the hell would you follow along? Do you have a death wish or something?”

“I- I know it’s dangerous.” Sayaka stammered. “But I know how to keep out of the way. Besides, I’m more sensitive to Wraiths than average human. I can-”

“No. Absolutely not. I don’t make it a habit to bring baggage to a fight.”

Sayaka sucked in a deep breath. Her whole body shook. Kyoko thought she was angry at being called a hindrance (and it was a fact, Kyoko reminded herself).

But then, Sayaka smiled again. There was no joy in it, only a distant wistfulness.

“I know.” She whispered. “I know… but I…”

She said something about losing her magic, a voice snickered in her head. Now look at what you did. You made her cry. How heartless.

Kyoko told the voice to shut up and did a double take to make sure Sayaka wasn’t really crying. She wasn’t, but it was a lot worse than that. She looked broken and desperate.

Why the fuck did she have to be an open book?

She smacked her lips impatiently, looking away. She knew she wasn’t wrong. What she said was true, and she wasn’t wrong in pointing how ridiculous it was for Sayaka to follow her to battle. Yet, she couldn’t help but feel she had done something terrible.

“Alright. Alright, fine.” She spat at her shadow, which seemed to mock her in a lipless smirk. “You can come along.”

“Really?”

“…I lied.”

“Wha- wait, wait. That’s not fair. You said I can!”

Kyoko rolled her eyes.

“Under one condition.” She turned to Sayaka, doing her best to convey how idiotic they both were. “You do exactly as I say.”

The voice in her head snickered again as Sayaka, all too happily, nodded and hugged her.

 

* * *

 

The hunt was easy. The rewards were plentiful. By the time they were done and walking towards the apartment Sayaka mentioned, Kyoko was in a relatively good mood.

True to her words, Sayaka stayed out of the way the entire battle. Kyoko had nearly forgotten she had an audience by the time she picked up the Grief Cubes.

“Good work.” Sayaka patted her back. “You’re really strong.”

Kyoko wasn’t sure why she was looking all proud and happy. She shrugged and pocketed the cubes. “Well.” It was neither acceptance or denial.

Presently, they came upon a forked road, separated by a two-story building colored gold by the surrounding street lamp. Sayaka helpfully pointed to the elegant wooden entrance. “Here it is.”

Kyoko frowned. Had she been here before?

She followed Sayaka up the stairs, searching her memory. If her sense of direction was to be believed, she had never come to this part of the town. Or she never lingered, anyway. She might have passed the neighborhood a couple times when Wraiths spawned near the hospital. But that didn’t explain the degree of familiarity. Close to nostalgia.

Sayaka led her to the last unit, and extracted a small bronze key fashioned in the style of clockwork. When it clicked and turned, Kyoko could have sworn she heard the wheels grinding.

She saw the empty nameplate well before the door opened, but she was still dazed by the vacancy inside. The walls, the floors, and the ceiling were all white. There was no other color, save for their shadows. Not even the golden orange of the lamp could reach in.

“Well?” Sayaka looked over to her with that same wistful smile.

“It’s…” Kyoko swallowed hard. She didn’t understand it. This place looked nothing like her church, but it felt the same looking at all the white as it did looking at the broken stained glass on the church floor.

No. It’s not white. Because white would still mean something. This apartment is not that. It’s a void. It’s achromatic.

“There’s nothing here.”

“There never was.” Sayaka agreed quietly. “Maybe because she didn’t need them. There was only one thing she ever needed.”

Kyoko didn’t understand, but didn’t want to pry either. This was getting way too personal to her comfort. Even though it didn’t seem like there was any other person here for a long time. She looked up, still hopeful there would be something there.

“Oi.”

She pointed to the ceiling. It was difficult to tell where it began and the wall supporting it started. Everything blended together. There was nothing to look at.

“Shouldn’t there be a pendulum here?”

Kyoko could feel Sayaka’s gaze on her. She lowered her arm, suddenly ashamed. What was she expecting? Why was she here? How could a place she had never been hold such power?

“Ah.” Sayaka sighed beside her, but it was not a pained one.

When Kyoko turned to her, she saw only a kindness, a understanding that she felt she should be able to give reasons to. It brought some meaning to the hueless struggle in an unknown world.

“I thought so.” Sayaka chuckled to herself like she won a bet. “It’s just like you.”

Kyoko turned away again. She didn’t ask what it meant, mostly because she dreaded the answer.

Sayaka took it upon herself to carry the conversation.

“Sorry there’s no bed.” She looked about the room. “The offer to go to my place still stands. Otherwise we can just sleep on the floor, I guess. Are you okay with that?”

She had slept in worse places. But she didn’t tell her that. “Wait, you’re staying too?”

“Why not?” Sayaka shrugged. “It’s a bit late. Are you really going to let a pretty teenage girl like me walk home by myself? In the middle of the night?”

Kyoko contemplated pointing out she could escort her home, then she realized Sayaka wasn’t really asking for that. She shrugged back.

“If you get back pain or neck pain in the morning, don’t complain.”

“How insensitive!” Sayaka feigned offense, but still walked to a corner and laid her back with a content sigh. She patted the spot next to her.

Kyoko hesitated.

“Wait, are you really staying? Won’t your family worry or something?”

Sayaka shrugged again with a laugh. “My mom’s barely home. She probably won’t notice I’m gone. And even if she did, I could just tell her I’m staying over at a friend’s.” She looked up to Kyoko. “Which is true.”

Home is not a place, but the people. Kyoko remembered. Those were his words, not hers. She had forgotten most of his teachings, but every once in a while, he would speak to her from the memory. She wondered whether the memory of someone could keep them as your family.

“You’re gonna catch a cold.” She told Sayaka as she walked to her side and sat down.

“Why couldn’t you offer to be my human furnace?”

“Are you going to pay for the service?”

Sayaka made a face. “Meanie.”

Kyoko let her fall asleep on her shoulder anyway. She stayed awake long after Sayaka drifted off, looking at their shadows.

Go to sleep. The voice in her head told her. Don’t question it when something good happens.

Kyoko followed the advice and surrendered herself to rest.

That night, she dreamt of turkey dinner and falling snow, with her entire family by the table and Mami bringing tea to them all. When she looked to her side, Sayaka smiled at her like she was the last good thing on Earth.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The key probably look something like this: https://www.amphigory.com/P671.jpg


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the quality dip. I wrote this chapter in fragments.

“It will be over soon.”

She was standing in a coliseum of fire. The fight was already over. She had failed. They had been defeated.

“Why do you weep?” The devil laying by her feet chuckled weakly. “Although, knowing you, I suppose that’s not so outlandish.”

She wanted to say something. Goodbye, perhaps. But the heatless fire consumed her words. She saw her chest raised jaggedly like she was struggling to breath, and there was nothing to be done.

“Would you move over a little?”

She complied, and discovered in her own shadow a smile like the tiny flying sparks when one stared up at the daylight for too long.

“Ah, yes. Much better. The sky mocks me… that was an insult. Call it my petty revenge.  No, no. It’s precisely because you love her. What do you expect from a devil other than betrayal?”

It was no betrayal. She wanted to tell her. They were only doing what they thought was the best. They were only fighting for what they thought was right. To save the people they loved.

“I used you.” The devil declared with such wicked pride. “And I regretted none of it. I’d do it again and again.”

She would too.

“I love ☮☮☮ as much as you do ♪♪-san. That’s what made you come to me. That’s what made me accept you. That’s why we were doomed to fail.”

The names were gone. Like they were never there.

“You shouldn’t think too much of this.” Said ▓▓▓ not the devil.

And she was right. She had always been right. Although Kyoko could not remember why.

“For traitors like us, this ending is more than we deserve. I think the only people who ought to complain is them. They supposedly defeated the enemies, but nothing’s fixed. There is no going back. There is nothing to go back to. Are they too naive to know better? Or are we just cunning enough to secure our desires?”

It wouldn’t be long now. She could see the white marble floor underneath.

She never understood why she picked that color. It clashed terribly with the rest of the decorations.

“Do you hate me? Speak, and be truthful.”

She had no word. But she obeyed her command and shook her head.

“You should.” ▓▓▓, her friend, her only remaining friend, laughed at her. “There will be no salvation. No lasting happiness. I took them all away. That’s my parting gift… a curse.”

She kneeled and held the fading hand between her palms, in a gesture of prayer, asking grace.

Please give her peace. Please let her forgive.

▓▓▓ coughed, or perhaps sighed.

“You must pay for humiliating me at my last moment.” The words came out less as a threat and more as an instruction. Her will. “So stay alive, for as soon as you enter my realm, you shall be punished.”

…

Kyoko sat up.

A breeze from nowhere ruffled her hair, lifting strands of her dreams. Higher and Higher. Until the petals soared out of reach. Yet nothing was really taken or destroyed.

She bumped into something as she tried to stand. The object toppled to the ground and groaned.

Ah, not an object, a person. A rather persistent and stubborn person who would be nursing a back pain very soon.

“That was a rude awakening.” Sayaka accused sleepily.

Kyoko wondered whether it’d be worth it to point out it’s her fault for snuggling too close during the night. Probably not. She shook her head.

And after today, she would make sure to keep away from this strange girl. Because one person was already too many for her to care about. And now she was dragged back to a past she didn’t care to repeat.

“You’re the one who chose to stay.”

Sayaka stretched. Her bones made a series of rapid popping sound like someone wringing a sheet of bubble wrap. “Yeah, but you’re the one who shoved me to the floor.”

“You fell.”

“Yeah, because you pushed me.”

Kyoko rolled her eyes. Yeah, definitely not going to hang around her. Last night she was just too tired to care.

Come to think of it, she would likely hesitate staying here another night if given the choice. Sure it was nice to sleep under a roof, but their presence felt like intrusion. Despite Sayaka insisting the apartment being ownerless, Kyoko couldn’t shake the hunch they were trespassing, like thieves disturbing tombs of someone who shouldn’t be disturbed. A taboo.

“Don't you have to go to school or something?”

Maybe she should just go back to the church. It's not that far from Mami’s anyway.

“It's Saturday.” Sayaka slowly climbed to her feet.

She stared for a moment before offering lamely. “Oh.”

Was she so detached from normalcy? It felt like a lifetime ago since she paid attention to the days of the week.

Sayaka took out her phone and did more than checking the time. Deft fingers danced on the screen for a few seconds as she hummed a bouncy tune, reminding Kyoko of the rhythm game she liked in the arcade. She waited until she was done and put the device back.

“We still have some time. Want to get some food first? ”

Kyoko blinked, fully awake now. A predatory grin rippled outward like a drop of blood on snow.

 

* * *

 

They arrived at Mami’s half past nine. The smell of buttered pancakes and caramel wafted down the hall, carried on the silver tray of morning light.

Kyoko wore a lazy smirk, trailing behind her disgruntled companion. She kept her hands in her pocket as Sayaka knocked, a little more forcefully than strictly necessary. Mami opened at once. Like she had been waiting there the entire time.

“Good morning, you two.” She greeted, eyes darting first to the pouty Sayaka, then to the nonchalant Kyoko. “We are just about to have breakfast. Would you care to join?”

Sayaka muttered something under her breath, to which Kyoko stifled with a loud rumble from her stomach. They both stared.

She took a pocky from the box in her pocket, and used it to pick at her teeth. “What?”

Sayaka grumbled. Mami covered her chuckle with a delicate hand.

“Come on in.”

Mami took a step back, holding the door. Kyoko brushed past her without sparing a glance, while Sayaka politely returned the greeting and made smalltalk with their hostess.

Kyoko immediately began scouting the apartment for her green-haired charge. The only thing remotely resembled her target was the matcha shade carpet and decorative plant behind the couch. She frowned. Perhaps Yuma was not well enough to get up yet.

But then, there were laughters, coming from deeper inside the apartment, from above.

Kyoko climbed to the little platform tucked between the ceiling and the main floor.

They had their backs to her, covered in diamond-shaped skylight. Kyoko could see their reflections from the slanted glass panels, overlapping and distorting fractions of the silly faces they made.

So many Nagisa. So many Yuma. So many ways the mirror reflected their smiles. None of which could ever be given, not by her at least.

She retreated quietly.

“Nagisa, Yuma-chan,” Mami chose that very moment to herald their arrival. “Look who’s here.”

Kyoko was stuck between stopping and getting out of the way. The intersection of perpendicular stairs glued her feet down like cement.

Footsteps bounded towards the stairs.

Kyoko looked to the center of the living room. Sayaka had already settled down by the coffee table, one cheek resting in her palms and watching. Kyoko broke eye contact before they even made it.

And in the time she wasted, the footsteps paused. A small gasp replaced the silence. Then, Kyoko felt a tiny body knocking the wind out of her.

“Kyoko!”

Her arms wrapped around the small missile before her mind caught up with the act. When it did, she sent a fist down, drilling the top of the messy green hair to express her relief.

“Yo, be careful. The furniture here probably cost as much as the place itself, you know.”

She could hear Sayaka rolling her eyes. And Mami chuckling softly from the kitchen. She decided to not embarrass herself by looking at either.

There was another source of voice though, and it came right above her. She tilted her head up, and found herself staring at the upside-down face of the other child, who was dangling precariously, grinning down at her.

“Hey.” She gave a small wave. “Yuma hadn’t ate your candy or anything, right?”

While Yuma protested, Nagisa giggled merrily and tipped herself over the railing.

Kyoko reacted the only way she could, leaning over and catching the cream-haired girl with her back. The small arms latching onto her neck nearly choked her.

“Well, well.” Sayaka commented dryly. “Someone’s getting an awful lot of love this morning.”

Mami also poked her head out to watch the commotion. Though she was discreet, a hint of knowing smile tugged at her lips.

It was such a normal, silly scene. Meaningless. And it was so easy to see herself in this role. To be sucked back in like a stone caught in a whirlpool. The weight on her back was real, and it was satisfying to be able to hold something solid. It’s…

_Why do you weep?_

Had she the right?

But even that was not the right question. Cotton wisps soaring on summer wind would never be snow. Salt mistaken as sugar in a cake was revolting. She looked down.

Mami picked another opportune moment to interrupt.

“Girls, could you give me a hand here?”

The children responded readily. When they both let go and hopped off, Kyoko was finally able to breath properly again. Her ribcage and back throbbed in sync with her heart.

She sulked to the table, plopping down on the side facing away from the giant windows. As far away from Sayaka as possible.

“Mami-san’s kind.”

Kyoko reached into the box in her pocket again and made a noncommittal noise.

“You really are alike.”

“Where did you get that idea?” Kyoko snorted incredulously. It devolved into a scowl when she realized Sayaka was serious. “You are blind. I'm nothing like her.”

Maybe she did want to at some point. Not anymore. She would never be like Mami. She couldn't.

The subject of their discussion emerged with a tray in her hands. A jug of thick, chestnut colored drink stood next to small mountains of pancakes and waffles. The girls followed closely behind like ducklings, each holding a stack of floral pattern plates and cups. Each trying to get closer, like seals looking at a bucket of fish.

Mami laid down the tray and settled next to Nagisa on the side against the couch. Yuma paused, as if noticing Sayaka for the first time.

“Hello, Yuma-chan.” Sayaka smiled brightly, patting the space beside her. “How are you today?”

The child shrank back a little, turning first to Kyoko, who shrugged. Then to Mami, who nodded with a reassuring smile. Slowly, she took her seat between Kyoko and Sayaka, nudging closer to Kyoko’s side.

Being counted on was pleasant, but Kyoko wanted to impress on Yuma the importance of independence. It would prepare the child for the inevitable.

She had been at it for nearly three years now. Sometimes the process hurt them both, but they had always pushed through. And bit by bit, she taught Yuma how to survive. How to avoid being hurt. How to build a fortress.

And just one night with Mami seemed to have dismantled it all.

It was not Yuma’s fault, of course. And not really Mami’s. Her former mentor emanate a comforting aura that inspired trust. Kyoko knew it first-hand. Yet…

Nagisa busied herself dividing waffles and pancakes among the empty plates. She distributed them around the table.

Meanwhile, Mami filled the closest cup with the jug of golden-bronze beverage.

“I got a bit carried away.”

And she placed it right in front of Kyoko.

“Th- this recipe just sort of came to mind.” Her hands trembled a little as she retracted them. One would never guess from the smooth sweetness in her voice, but her confidence was as hollow as the inside of a plagued tree. “I hope it will be to everyone’s taste.”

She then moved on to serve others, but the anticipation lingered thick as the scent of caramel.

Kyoko stared at the cup like it was a puzzle to be solved.

Ah. That’s what it was.

Caramel, butter, cinnamon, and of course, the faintest inkling of crispy apple. How many times had she tasted this? And how many times before Mami found the perfect balance between ingredients? There was no reason to count back then, and she couldn’t remember now.

“Oh my god. How have I never had this before?” Sayaka made some inappropriate noise. “It’s _soooo_ good!”

The children agreed enthusiastically, though less vocally, as they focused on inhaling the beverage as fast as humanly possible.

Mami smiled and thanked them for their compliments, but she was waiting. She was still waiting.

Kyoko pulled a plate of pancakes and waffles to herself, and dug in without looking up or saying a word. If Mami didn’t want to play fair, she didn’t have to either.

Mami’s smile faltered, but she schooled her expression quickly.

Kyoko chewed at her food slowly, using her mouthful of food to avoid the easy conversation going around the table. There was no objective to it, therefore headed nowhere and required nothing. It was so inconsequential that anyone could have joined in at any point.

Kyoko reminded herself she was under no obligation to participate.

The meal dragged on, but when everyone was done and Kyoko looked up to the clock, not even half an hour past. She wondered whether someone stopped time just to mess with her head, and discarded the ridiculous notion almost as quickly as it came to mind.

Mami got up to collect the emptied dishes and used silverware. The children were still licking their plates and cups. They looked downright disappointed when they realized they had literally licked them clean.

Kyoko was compelled to offer her service, but she didn’t want to be roped into any alone time with her former mentor. So she sat back, propping herself with both hands on the floor, and watched as Mami balanced the plates, cups, and utensils on the tray. She enlisted Nagisa for help, and Yuma volunteered herself as well.

And once again, Kyoko was left alone with Sayaka by the coffee table.

Deciding she _really_ did not want to want to have any conversation, Kyoko looked to her untouched beverage. She was feeling thirsty.

“What’s with that face?” Sayaka teased. “Can’t take the spice?”

Kyoko shot her a glare. It was unmistakably a challenge.

“It’s not that.”

“Then?”

She suspected she was playing right into the other girl’s hands, but her pride would not allow her to back down.

“Have you ever considered I might be allergic or something?”

“You?” Sayaka laughed. “Allergic or not, you’d still do it. You don’t waste food. Or drinks.”

She was right, of course, and in reality Kyoko had no known food allergy. She reached for the cup, holding it not by the handle but by the base. Yeah, she knew it’s not the proper way. That’s exactly why.

“No.”

She downed the drink like it was a shot of tequila.

“See?” Sayaka smirked. “It’s not that hard.”

Kyoko was about to snap at her for being a nuisance when someone coughed quietly.

“I… I don’t know if it’s sweet enough.”

She looked up. At some point, Mami had left the children in the kitchen and ventured back to the dining area. She was holding the empty tray against her chest.

“It’s not what I expected.” She replied.

For a moment, mortification clouded her face.

“We- we ran out of caramel, and there wasn’t any time to brew the cinnamon into syrup.” Mami explained hurriedly. She looked like she might faint. “I know it’s not-”

“It’s alright.”

“You don’t have to-”

“Mami.” The cup clattered against the saucer, covering up her sigh. She looked up to Mami, her voice softer than she meant to. “It’s alright.”

Mami nodded like she didn’t fully understand. She turned back and re-entered the kitchen.

The kids said something to her, but it was distorted by the running faucet.

“Really?” Sayaka rolled her eyes. “Is it so hard to praise a girl honestly?”

“Only if it’s well-deserved. Which is why you haven’t got any.”

Didn’t she know the basic law of equilibrium? In order to give, one must have something to offer to begin with.

“Aren’t you a charmer.” Sayaka fanned the air like she was swatting at some invisible fly. “Whatever. So, what’s the plan?”

Kyoko swallowed another sarcastic remark and considered.

Mami aside, Yuma seemed to get along with Nagisa splendidly as well. It didn’t look like she would have to worry about entrusting her to them. She had come here with the intention of taking Yuma back, but now, perhaps doing nothing would be the right decision after all.

Sayaka took the silence the wrong way. She frowned.

“It’s not like you to be indecisive.”

Kyoko raised a brow. “Presumptuous much? We just met.”

Sayaka seemed taken aback by that. Like she forgot the fact. A storm swept through her expression.

“And you were wrong anyway.” Kyoko pretended to notice nothing. “Who said I didn’t decide? Yuma’s gonna stay here until she gets better. Much better.”

_One is lonely. Two is company. Three is family._

The storm dissipated, replaced by surprise. “You’re going to trust Mami-san?”

Kyoko pushed the cup away. “I’m going to let her take care of Yuma. Big difference.”

_Four? What four? What for?_

She continued. “It’s safer than the street. And Mami’s capable to keep her safe should anything happen.”

Ha, like she would _let_ anything happen.

Sayaka squinted like she was one of those high-rise windows reflecting off sunlight. After a long moment, she finally said, almost too quiet to be heard. “I was right.”

“That’d be a first.”

Somehow, the insult lost its edge over the short distance between them. Sayaka giggled, which turned into a chuckle, and finally evolved into a full-blown, hearty laughter.

The noise drew Mami’s attention again. Kyoko was so stunned by the sudden outburst she neither looked to or away from Mami.

“I missed the fun?”

It took her a moment to remember nothing was okay with this situation. Sayaka had toppled out of view when Kyoko shook her head slowly.

“Sure, if you call insanity fun.” She muttered. Her hands went for the box of pocky but found solid cubes instead.

Oh right, she had one more mission.

“Mami,” she said to the coffee table. “Can you… can you come here a second?”

Mami was all too delighted to comply the request. She left instructions for the girls to properly dry the plates before putting them away in the cupboards and drawers.

Kyoko’s fingers squeezed around the cubes until her knuckles mimicked their colors.

Mami took the trouble to circle around and resume to her original seat. She sat closer to Kyoko too, like a puppy eager for attention.

“How may I help you, Sakura-san?”

She smiled more perfectly than those cafe waitresses. Why wasn’t she one? Maybe she didn’t need the money, but she would still excel at it. And she would be so happy doing those mundane tasks, carrying trays and making teas and serving. Always trying to make someone else happy.

Kyoko flung the cubes to her. She was the grumpy customer who could never be satisfied. The harder they tried to please her, the angrier she would get.

Mami caught all the cubes in one elegant sweep. Her jaw hung slack as she counted their sum.

“Sakura-san, I can’t possibly accept-”

“You can and you will.”

Her damned ribbons. They never slackened or snapped. Even if she cut one, it would simply split into three and cling on.

“They aren’t for you. They’re for Yuma.”

Mami looked down to her palms, then back to Kyoko. Her cheerful smile eased into a solemn nod.

“I understand.”

She wasn’t really trying to get her to understand.

“Something else you’ll have to ‘understand’.” Kyoko stood and stared her down. “Starting today, you’ll focus on fixing Yuma. In exchange, I’ll share one fourth of the loot with you.”

“You are… taking over?” Mami straightened a little. The powerful Puella Magi in her alarmed.

“What do you think I am, stupid?” She snarled. “This city may be a great hunting ground, but it’s not worth enough to cover the cost of a fight between you and me. It’s a trade.”

Mami frowned. “Then why not join force? It will be more efficient.”

“Have you not heard a word I said?” She rolled her eyes. “This city is a _great_ hunting ground. Why would I want another magical girl around to take my kill?”

Just drop it. Just drop it. Put down the ribbon.

“But-”

“Oh for fuck’s sake.” One stride was all it took to close their distance, and for Kyoko’s fists to bunch up the front of Mami’s collar. This was the closest they had ever got.

If not for her flaring anger, Kyoko might have found the irony comical.

She saw herself in Mami’s eyes. A hissing dragon breathing fire, or perhaps was the fire. A force only good for destruction.

“You’ve got two kids depending on you now.” She accentuated each word with increasing force. “So stop thinking about playing hero all the time. You can’t be both theirs and everyone else’s.”

Mami stared back, defiant but afraid.

It was the same kind of look she used to have when facing particularly strong Wraiths, when neither of them could be sure they would survive the night. Kyoko didn’t fully understand it back then, but now she knew how to use that fear. It’s just another form of power. Sometimes that kind of power can hurt. And sometimes that kind of power can save.

“They’re gonna come out any moment now, you know.”

Kyoko glanced to the side. She had forgotten there was a third person at this table. Sayaka was still toppled over, but at some point she had arranged herself over the cushions and was lying there quite comfortably. Her tone was almost lazy, yet her gaze pierced through the glass.

Kyoko simply let go.

“I’m done here.” She announced evenly.

Sayaka nodded against her fluffy bed, not breaking eye contact. “Not gonna say goodbye to Yuma-chan?”

“Wrong again.”

She left the table. Neither Mami nor Sayaka tried to follow. Yuma and Nagisa were still chatting happily in the kitchen over their chores, oblivious of the tension that nearly tore the apartment in halves.

Kyoko stopped at the open archway. She never set foot in the kitchen before. There was no point setting precedence. So she called.

“Yuma.”

The green-haired girl turned and bounded towards her guardian. Kyoko took the plate and towel from her hands and set it down on the table behind. She was pretty sure those were expansive too.

“Kyoko! Can we come over every week? I know it's a bit far, but Nagisa promised she'd show me this awesome ice cream cake place. It _melts_ in your mouth!”

“That's… that sounds pretty awesome.” She stole a glance at the coffee table. Sayaka was whispering something to Mami, who nodded with a tired smile.

“Kyoko? What's the matter?”

She took a deep breath and bent down so they were at eye level.

“It's… look, you're gonna stay with Mami and Nagisa here, for a bit.” She tried to make it sound like a good thing. It’s supposed to, right? “So you don’t have to wait for next week, and no walking. Maybe… maybe Nagisa and Mami can take you to that place tomorrow? Yeah?”

Yuma’s face fell. “What about you?”

Kyoko swallowed. She knew what Yuma was thinking. She once vowed she'd never give Yuma the chance to wonder about that ever again.

“I'm… I'll hang around.” She tried to be reassuring. But how could you convince someone if you don’t believe in what you’re saying yourself? “Don't worry. I'll come by everyday, okay? Just to make sure you didn't break anything.”

The joke fell short.

“Kyoko?”

“Hmm?”

“Do you remember when you saved me?”

Kyoko doubted she could ever forget. It was too similar to her own nightmare.

“When mom and dad came up with the… with the…” Yuma swallowed, trailing off just for a brief second. “For a moment, really just for one moment, I thought maybe… maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.”

Kyoko forced the neutral expression to stay on her face, but her fists balled up. Hard enough to crush a telephone poll.

“…but I ran.” Yuma continued with a weak smile. “I ran. And I ran into you.”

Kyoko unclenched her fists, very carefully and slowly, and she put them on Yuma’s shoulders.

“And… and I was glad. Still am. I’m glad it didn’t end that day.”

“Yuma.”

“I don’t want to leave, but if Kyoko wants me to…”

“Hey.” She pulled the girl into a brief hug. “I’m not going to abandon you. Alright? I didn’t, so why would I start now?”

“Couldn’t you stay with us then?”

“That’s…” Kyoko released her. She tried to look at Yuma when she explained it, but it was more difficult than she could imagine. She ended up looking at the counter next to them. “That’s a bit more complicated.”

“Were you mad at Mami-neechan?”

Mami-neechan, huh?  “What makes you think that?”

“You sounded angry.” Yuma tilted her head. “I wanted to see what happened, but Nagisa said not to.”

“She did?”

Yuma nodded. “So, are you mad at her?”

“Well, a little bit.” She sighed. “See. Mami sometimes forgets where her limit is. She cares too much about other people. And you remember what I said about pushing too much?”

“Bad things happen.” Yuma recited quietly. “You can trip, and never get up.”

“Yeah.” Kyoko nodded grimly. “But hey, don’t worry. I’m not gonna let that happen. I’m here, alright? I’ll keep her, and you, and Nagisa, and even that idiot who saved you- all of you, alive.”

Yuma nodded obediently.

“So that’s why I’ll be a bit busy. I have to hunt, so Mami doesn’t wear herself out. And I can’t trust her to not overdo it.”

“Okay.”

“And I’m not... “ Kyoko cleared her throat. “This isn’t just for healing you, alright? It’s… a personal debt I have to pay.”

Yuma didn’t nod, but she studied Kyoko for a long moment, before she came up and wrapped her tiny arms around her neck.

“Take care of yourself, Kyoko.” She whispered next to her ears, nuzzling like a teddy bear. “Come back soon?”

Kyoko mussed her hair. “When have I not?”

Yuma released her and smiled. It was such an innocent and pure smile, Kyoko almost forgot Yuma just chose not to point out the flaw in her logic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two things broke me this week that I want to talk about.  
> The first is Mami’s apartment, like logically broke me.  
> The second is that short film (Bao) they played right before The Incredibles 2. That one broke me emotionally.  
> I couldn’t find much on Mami’s apartment layout in the Anime Production Notes, so I based most of my observation from the Rebellion Production Notes.  
> Now, granted, it’s part of Homura’s creation, therefore kind of makes sense to disobey the laws of physics and space to a certain degree. (That, or Mami used magic to expand the space in her apartment.) But even when combined with what we saw from the anime movies… just, like, wut?  
> And then there’s Bao.  
> I went to watch The Incredibles 2 expecting a relaxing fun time shoving popcorns in my mouth while western animation heroes do western animation heroes thing… I wasn’t prepared.  
> So glad the theater was dark. I couldn’t hold it in, and I was sitting next to a group of kids and a young couple for god’s sake. It hit home hard for me. Literally. And I kid you not, I’m going back next Tuesday just so I can watch that film again and cry.  
> Also, I wish I can use runes as font here. But I can’t. So here is arbitrary unicode symbol for you. And yes I know that’s the double integral sign.


	4. Chapter 4

It was nearly noon when Kyoko left Mami’s apartment. The city was just waking up. People strolled past at languid pace - couples, families, groups of friends, or wanderers with their headphones on - filling the streets with idle chatters and laughters.

Unsurprisingly, Sayaka followed. The blue-haired girl didn’t try to start a conversation, much to Kyoko’s relief. She seemed busy checking something on her phone.

Kyoko didn’t let her eyes linger. She looked to the observation tower on the other side of the river, barely visible behind the various buildings.

Just yesterday around this time, she was still in Kazamino pickpocketing oblivious businessmen. If anyone was to tell her she would have breakfast with Mami today, she would have laughed. They parted ways as enemies. Both made it clear they never wanted to see each other again. Why would she come back?

_ ‘Oi.’ _ She thought aloud.  _ ‘You around?’ _

A toneless voice replied.

_ ‘It has been a while, Sakura Kyoko.’ _ Materializing out of thin air, a pair of ruby orbs floated on her shoulder.  _ ‘How may I be of service?’ _

She knew this would happen, but it still vexed her.

_ ‘…you’re one creepy little bastard.’ _

Kyuubey blinked once.  _ ‘I do not understand.’ _

_ ‘Never mind.’ _ She sighed inwardly. The alien was frustrating to deal with for many reasons.  _ ‘I want to ask you something. You know why I’m here, right? About what happened to me and Yuma back at Kazamino?’ _

_ ‘Of course.’ _

_ ‘And that thing this girl-’ _ she glanced behind her. Sayaka was still focusing on her phone. Kyoko wondered when she would walk into a pole.  _ ‘-what she did for Yuma?’ _

_ ‘Yes.’ _

_ ‘What the hell was it and how was it even possible?’ _

Kyuubey’s eyes shifted to Sayaka.  _ ‘Magic, I reckon.’ _ The way they glimmered unnerved her. She was beginning to regret bringing this up.  _ ‘How exactly that comes to pass, I do not know. She is definitely not a Puella Magi, and cannot become one.’ _

At least that proved what Sayaka was claiming, she supposed. The Incubators might have a tendency to skip important details (such as how your soul became detached from your body when you contracted, or how your wish would likely play out), but they never lied. As far as Kyoko knew, they did not have the capacity to lie.

_ ‘I thought all magical ability comes from you guys.’ _

_ ‘That is a common misconception. We merely enable you to manifest energy into many forms.’ _

She glared. That part was new.  _ ‘Elaborate.’ _ But then again, she never paid much attention on how it all worked. It was magic, why would magic need logic?

_ ‘Simply put, we modified your soul to be a converter of energies.’ _ Its eyes fell on Kyoko’s hand.  _ ‘Take the rudimentary watermill for example. Your Soul Gem is the wheel. Your so-called magic is the rotational work produced from it turning.’ _

_ ‘But a watermill needs water to turn. Where does the water come from?’ _

Kyuubey paused briefly.  _ ‘Your kind does not have a term for it. And the overall system is much more intricate than any watermill. First, there is a subsystem that allows you to harvest the source energy to be converted. Then there is the storage subsystem for the processed energy. Not to mention the unique design of each conversion subsystem and their various output possibility… It will take years for me to fully explain all the concepts and how they were applied in the construction of a Soul Gem. Would you still like to proceed?’ _

_ ‘No.’ _ Kyoko scowled. She could believe the amount of time and effort required to understand it. Most of which probably mattered little to her anyway.  _ ‘Still, if Soul Gems are converters, and Sayaka didn’t have one… how did she do it?’ _

_ ‘It is not impossible for some humans to possess the ability naturally. But the cases are too few and vary too dramatically to develop any reliable theory.’ _

_ ‘So then… what does it mean if she uses all her magic?’ _

The silence felt much longer, and more foreboding.  _ ‘The outcome of a unstable system is difficult to predict without further data.’ _

She hated it when they did that. Always the vague and cryptic answers.

_ ‘Can she die?’ _

_ ‘It is difficult to-’ _

_ ‘Is it possible?’ _

_ ‘Yes.’ _

_ ‘That’s all I need to know.’ _ She gritted her teeth. After a moment of still feeling the watchful eyes on her, she added.  _ ‘You can go now.’ _

Without any sound or trace, the Incubator was gone.

Kyoko looked up to the cloudless sky. The sun beamed down without mercy. She shielded her eyes with one hand. Her ring gleamed with the glory of the bright world.

A ring is an oath. He once said. An oath to something or someone other than yourself. It is sacred.

But an oath could be broken, forgotten, or simply abandoned. Was the oath still sacred then? Or was it just another piece of shattered glass, good for nothing other than cutting the fingers careless enough to pick it up?

“Ne, Kyoko.”

She glanced over her shoulder. Sayaka had put away the phone and was now grinning at her like the idiot she was.

“Let’s go shopping.”

“Let’s not.”

Sayaka pouted again. “Why not?”

“Better question, why?”

“Well, you need food!” Sayaka feigned seriousness. She was doing a terrible job, what with that stupid smile. “Let me make it clear, my wallet cannot suffer the abuse it took this morning everyday. So no take-outs. And I’ll not accept eating junk food for meals.”

“And let  _ me  _ make it clear, I didn’t force you.” She deadpanned. “You were the one who volunteered to buy breakfast-”

“Yet you still ate so much at Mami-san’s!”

“Hey.” She shrugged. “Free food.”

Sayaka rolled her eyes. “Anyway. I’m not going to let us eat only junk food. That’s the final judgement. This court will not accept further appeal.”

“You do realize I’m going to live alone and what I eat is my freedom, right?”

“Uh-uh. Denied.”

“What.” She blinked. “Don’t tell me you’re-”

“You’re not getting out of this one.” Sayaka stuck out her tongue. “You’re just upset you won’t get to eat junk food all day long.”

 

* * *

 

Somehow.  _ Somehow _ , Kyoko let Sayaka drag her around.

And they ended up buying a lot more than food. Aside from the grocery bags hanging off both of her forearms, she was carrying a small table and two chairs on her back, one sleeping bag under each arm, and a box of she-didn’t-even-remember-what, stocked with pots, pans, bowls, and a pack of ten pairs of chopsticks in her arms.

In contrast, Sayaka was humming a merry tune, empty-handed, and skipping in front of her.

How the hell did this happen again?

“I thought you’re only going to buy food.” She said over the pile. “Why do you even need all these extra stuff?”

“Well, because they’re living essentials.” Sayaka replied all too cheerfully. “Relax, it’s not even that much. Once you put them all down you’ll see.”

“Assuming I even live that long.”

“It’s not that far.” Sayaka laughed. “Come on, slowpoke.”

“…why do I get a feeling you bought all these just so I have to carry them?”

Sayaka tilted her head back innocently. “Was it that obvious?” Then she laughed and ran off.

Kyoko briefly considered dropping everything and chase after her, just so she could pin her down and teach her a lesson about enslaving someone you only knew for one day to carry your shopping bags. But she didn’t.

It was either because of how carefree and happy that smile shone under the afternoon sun, or because she didn’t want to break anything she was currently carrying. Besides she could totally get her when they got to the apartment. Yupe, definitely the latter.

At least Sayaka wasn’t teasing when she said the apartment was near. Kyoko could see it even with the pile in her arms. The roof peeked down at her.

She stopped, remembering flashes of her dream that morning, and the sense of taboo when she was inside.

Sayaka stopped with her.

“Whose apartment exactly is this?” She asked quietly, like she was afraid to disturb whoever that was supposed to occupy the housing.

“An acquaintance of mine.” Sayaka paused, looking suddenly thoughtful. The shadow of the building was upon her, damping her expression. “I never got her to call me a friend.”

Kyoko shifted on the spot. She didn’t know whether she should be hearing this.

“So maybe we’re not.” Sayaka concluded, staring at one of the windows. Whatever she saw, it was not the reflection of the sky. “But I’d like to think we were, and still are. I mean, after all we’ve been through…”

The weight of her cargos were become more and more notable with each passing moment.

“So you’re not on good terms.”

“You can say that.”

“Then…” She hesitated. “Then what if your acquaintance shows up? What if they come back and find out you’re basically squatting?”

Her gaze drifted upward, to the real sky, but she was still not looking at it. It fell on somewhere much, much farther away. Maybe to the invisible stars.

“She’s not coming back. Neither of them are.”

Kyoko wondered whether she should ask.

The silence held them there, standing at the road that forked out like the tongue of a snake. Kyoko began to wonder about a lot of things then. The apartment. The real owner. Mami and Nagisa. The Incubators. Yuma. Her church. The observation tower.

Her thoughts had not the chance to drift further when Sayaka turned to her again.

“I think…” She smiled. “I think, she’d want you to have this place.”

 

* * *

 

After they put away all the grocery and set up the pitiful collection of furniture, Sayaka shoo-ed Kyoko out of the kitchen.

Kyoko didn’t argue. Sayaka can have the job of cooking dinner. She was against wasting time on such mundane task to begin with. Besides, she had no idea what those ingredients were for, and would not be able to produce anything edible from them anyway.

…wait a minute. Why were they eating dinner together? Didn’t she decide this morning she would keep away?

Kyoko sighed. It’s probably pointless to try to figure that out now. They were both still here. What was she going to do, just walk out? For what, to fill her empty stomach with rotting vegetables from garbage bins? She propped herself against one of the sleeping bags, which were still rolled up and tied by a small rope.

She peered up at the ceiling. For some reason, it looked less oppressive now than it did last night, but still hollow, still hueless.

_ Tud, tud, tud, tud, tud… _

The sound came from the kitchen. It stirred distant memories, like a lullaby from her infancy. Her eyelids drooped without her commanding them to do so.

Fragments flashed in and out of her mind’s eyes, like a lighthouse in a stormy night. And she was standing in a boat that would soon sink to the bottom of the ocean.

_ Tud. Tud. Tud. Tud. _

She smelled roasted turkey and apple pie. Almond and forest and freshly fallen snow.

It felt like another lifetime, when her families still sat around the chipped wooden table. Her father sat with her on one side, and her sister with her mother. The only time the arrangement altered was when she invited Mami over.

That day, they had vegetable soup, french baguette served with butter, and apple salad. Her mom chided her for not giving her advanced notice, and apologized to Mami for not preparing something more luscious. Out of embarrassment, she insisted Mami would feel too awkward to come back again otherwise. After that, their conversation moved on to the church, to the wish.

When Kyoko returned home, it was already quite late. They sensed the presence of some Wraith on their way to Mami’s apartment (Kyoko’s father insisted on her daughter escorting her friend back safely). She went to bed soon after, and drifted into a pleasant dream.

Did she thank her mother for the meal? Did she ever thank her mother for all the things she did for them? For their family?

She remembered the countless afternoons she would walk or run on the dirt path around the church, shadows of the trees falling on her like spots. She used to pretend she was a leopard, running so silently and swiftly that she would one day catch up to the wind. Sometimes she would run with her little sister, chasing and laughing and hiding and wrestling among the trees. Until their mother called.

And then they would race home. To that little cabin behind the church. She always let Momo win in those little contests, because there was usually not enough dessert to be shared and that was only one of the many aspects of their poverty she wished to escape from.

She stayed outside for a little, listening to the birds sing and watching the clouds roll behind the forest. Her back was to the door. She could hear her mother prepare dinner. The knife fell on the chopping board.

_ Tud. Tud. Tud. _

She took a deep breath and opened the door. The sound stopped. She waited for a moment.

“Mom?”

She looked to the table, but Momo wasn’t there.

“Momo? Mom?”

There was no answer.

So she walked past the empty table until she reached the door of the kitchen. There was a series of wet noise.  _ Shink, shink, shink… _

She turned the knob.

And she saw Momo holding a half-eaten apple in her hand, but she was not moving and there were peels dangling off her body, red and melting into a pool that seemed to drag her down like a swamp. Her mother had already sunk down almost all the way, only half her face poked out and she stared at her eldest daughter with unseeing eyes-

“Then He will also say to those on His left, 'Depart from Me, accursed ones, into the eternal fire which has been prepared for the devil and his angels.’”

Her father pointed the bloody knife at her.

“You shall not have my family, witch.”

Kyoko began running again. Her mother had disappeared beneath the pool of blood. Her fingers brushed against but couldn’t hold on to her dead sister.

Her father turned away from her, and leapt off the edge of darkness. A rope caught his neck.

The kettle whistled with deafening volume, muffling her cries. The stove burned hotter and brighter, until a spark ignited the entire house, throwing her to another room.

There were wheels now. Wheels coming from everywhere. They swarmed up at her like a nest of angry hornets. She tried to fend for herself, but the torrent beat down relentlessly with a cacophony of distorted howls. She knew she would die. But she couldn’t accept dying without achieving what she set out to do.

She broke through the barrage and looked up to the throne made of blades.  _ Why? _ The queen of tragedy stared back down to her, weeping blood.

One of the wheels caught her on the back. She was tossed under the floating throne, splashing into some kind of lake. She tried to swim up, but the light drifted further and further away. She reached out and touched only bubbles.

When the light completely disappeared from her view, she turned round and round until she could no longer tell where she was or which way she came from. She looked everywhere, but there was only cold darkness. And she knew, she was gravitating towards some center that promised only suffering. Fear and despair got into her ears, her mouth, her nose, even her eyes. She forgot how to fight, but she was still struggling.

The darkness consumed her from the bottom. Soon she could not feel her legs. Frantic, she bent her arms to feel where her lower limbs were supposed to be. There was nothing.

She continued patting herself upward, feeling her waist and torso slowly disintegrating between her fingers.

Then, she touched the jewel embedded on her chest, and a brilliant fire exploded.

She looked down to find her body whole and donned in her battle uniform. Her right hand held the golden spear, whose blade glowed like hot iron, cutting away the cold, dark, dead water.

Kyoko looked downwards, to where her body seemed to be sinking towards.

Down at the freezing depth, a monster awaited. It had no eye, only a slender body and melting limbs. It sat on a black-spotted white horse - or perhaps it was black with white spots? - surrounded by hundreds and thousands of dwarfed creatures. They tilted their heads up in unison, hands clasped together in prayer as if they were witnessing the Advent.

And the monster… the monster did not move. Now she was closer, Kyoko realized it was fashioned in the form of a candle. But there was no flame on its wick.

The candle-monster was holding something in its arms. Someone. She couldn’t see who, but she knew it was someone dear to her. She tried to swim towards it.

The candle-monster came alive when she was still a good twenty yards away. It let out a piercing shriek that penetrated even the thick darkness. The shockwave sent her reeling backward. She kicked hard, summoning her magic to help her propel herself. But the water around her had turned into gels. She could hardly move a finger.

Then, a faint blue light started glowing from within the arms of the candle-monster. She didn’t know what was happening, but she understood the urgency of stopping that light.

She stretched her hands toward the source of the light. She opened her mouth.

_ I’m here. Wait for me. I’m right here. _

But the light continued to glow, steadily and warmly. It swallowed the candle-monster, the faceless minions. But it stopped just before it reached Kyoko. Her fingertip brushed against someone singing, before it all disappeared and she was once again left alone in the darkness.

It wasn’t until then that Kyoko realized she had been screaming this whole time. Calling out to a name that never responded.

…

She was jolted awake by a pair of hands.

“Kyoko. Wake up.”

Her eyes shot open, half expecting to see her mother sitting by her bedside. Though she wasn’t sure whether she would be stained by blood or not.

But instead, she saw Sayaka kneeling in front of her. Her hands on her shoulders. Her face filled with concern.

She opened her mouth, and found she had temporarily lost her voice. All that escaped was a choking noise. Something hot burned in her eyes. She stubbornly turned away in a vain attempt to hide.

Her face was damp with sweat, so was her limbs and torso and back. She felt cold and weak, and that made her angry. Her mind quickly caught up with reality, but it only served to worsen the humiliation she was suffering. Sayaka wasn’t supposed to see this. Nobody was supposed to see this. Sakura Kyoko cannot be weak, because vulnerabilities could be exploited, and that meant being hurt, killed, or worse.

Sayaka leaned a bit closer, saying soothingly. “It’s just a bad dream.”

She wanted to push her away, but her limbs were locked to her sides. She opened her mouth again. Her voice cracked, but she still gritted out. “I know.”

Sayaka ignored the threatening glare Kyoko gave her and moved closer still. She wrapped one tentative arm around the red-haired girl.

Kyoko snarled out a warning, but her body still refused to obey her.

Sayaka wrapped the other hand around her, until Kyoko was nestling on her collarbone. “It’s alright.”

_ No. It’s not. _ Kyoko wanted to protest, but her voice was muffled by the body pressed against hers. She smelled like evening grass and freshly baked bread.

“It’s alright. Everything’s alright now.” Sayaka combed her long locks with her finger. “It’s just a bad dream.”

For some reason, Kyoko wanted to believe her.

She knew she should resist. There was no one she could rely on other than herself. Sooner or later all those who claimed to be her allies would betray her. Everyone she loved would leave her.

So why did she feel the urge to hold on?

She stopped herself just as her fingers touched the seams of Sayaka’s T-shirt.

“Hm?”

“Are you sure you don’t have magic?”

She didn’t realize she had spoke aloud until Sayaka pulled back a little. Her blue eyes stared in confusion. Her bangs fell to the side as she tilted her head.

“Never mind.” Kyoko used the chance to slip out from her arms. She stood up and stretched to fill the awkward silence. “So, what’s for dinner?”

 

* * *

 

They ate in silence. Kyoko paid special attention to focus entirely on her meal and keep her eyes away from Sayaka’s face. She didn’t know what the other girl was thinking. She didn’t even know what she herself was thinking.

If anything, the earlier episode only proved she should distant herself. It did not matter whether she felt safe in those arms. She had to keep moving, keep being strong.

Sayaka finished her meal as well and got up to clean the table. Kyoko sat still and stubbornly kept her eyes on the table. She heard a small sigh but no words, before soft footsteps padded to the kitchen area. It was then she dared to look.

Sayaka still wore the new apron she bought earlier that day. Kyoko only saw it briefly before it was obstructed by the wall. Soon after, she heard faucet running.

She got up from the table slowly, unsure whether she should offer to help. There was no reason. Not really. But she was anxious to do something. Her hands went to her jacket again in search of snack. It came up empty. She scowled and started for the entrance.

The faucet was still running. She paused and looked back.

She’s going to regret this.

“Yo.” She called to the kitchen hesitantly. “I’m… I’m heading out for a bit.”

Sayaka turned the tap off. “Right now?”

“Yeah.” She walked a little faster. Her back hit the door. She found the knob without looking. “So just- like- don’t wait up or anything. Catch ya later!”

Then she all but ran out.

She didn’t stop until she was entirely out of the building. She wasn’t sure why she ran, or why she even bothered to tell Sayaka she was leaving. Maybe she felt obliged after the free meal. But then again, she didn’t  _ ask _ for it.

Kyoko shook her head, stuck both hands into her pockets, and began walking.

That was, until she heard footsteps rushing behind her and door opening and slamming shut.

“For crying out loud…” Sayaka was panting slightly. The annoyed expression was a first to Kyoko, but somehow it fit whatever image she had for this blue-haired girl. “Next time, if you run off without waiting, you’re doing the dishes.”

Why would there be a next time?

“What are you doing?”

Sayaka wiped her hands on her shorts. They were still dripping with dish soap. She answered Kyoko like she was stating a simple fact, like water is wet, like fire burns.

“Following you, of course.”

Kyoko frowned. “You do realize I’m going hunting, right?”

“Uh huh. Figured you want some exercise after food.”

_ Then why would you follow me? _ Kyoko almost said.  _ This isn’t a game. Normal people like you shouldn’t get involved. _

But she remembered last night, when she did say something to that effect. The way Sayaka smiled with unshed tears. And that damn voice in her head. At least she’s not hearing that now.

“It’s a bad idea.” She grumbled.

“It’ll be fiiiiine.” Sayaka dragged out the syllable. Her hands were more or less clean and dry now. “I know what I’m doing.”

“That’s not the point.”

She was fairly impressed by how well Sayaka was able to keep away the previous night, but that did not mean it would go so well again. If anything, she believed it was more dumb luck than actual skill that kept Sayaka unscatched and alive. Why did she even agree to it last time?

Are you going to make her cry again?

…there it was.

“Kyoko.” Sayaka’s smile faded. She frowned at her. A hint of worry and doubt creeping into her voice. “Do you… do you really not want me to come that badly? Did I mess it up last time?”

Ha. See?

Kyoko told the voice to shut up and looked away.  _ This is ridiculous. _

Sakura Kyoko doesn’t do stupid. Simple as that. And this request of following her around while she was busy killing dangerous monsters normal people couldn’t even see was on the top of the Stupid-Things-You-Should-Never-Agree-To list.

She met Sayaka’s slightly downcast gaze. After taking a deep breath, she opened her mouth to refuse-

“Fine.”

-what the fuck was she even saying now.

Sayaka’s expression brightened considerably. “Really?”

She tried to tell her no, not really. But her voice had a mind of its own.

“Yeah. Just… keep really,  _ really _ far away.” If she could, she’d really like to slap herself a couple times. “And run if things don’t look right. Run like your life depends on it. Because it does.”

This must be what being possessed feel like. Because the logical part of her was not in agreement with whatever part that was currently in control of her speech. All she could do was futilely try to regain control. Maybe she could still convince Sayaka to stay. Maybe…

And then Sayaka jumped up and gave her a brief hug.

Kyoko stared at the unreserved joy, and for a moment, completely forgot what she was trying to accomplish.

 

* * *

 

In the end, nothing went wrong.

When Kyoko scooped up the Grief Cubes from the floor, Sayaka was already bouncing toward her with a huge grin on her face. Kyoko narrowed her eyes. If she followed her instruction and picked some place safe (in her opinion) to hide, there was no way she could have gotten there that quickly.

Sayaka beat her to the punch and merrily patted her shoulder. “That was awesome!”

“…you couldn’t even see what happened.”

“Well, I can see you!” Sayaka replied cheerfully, like that explained everything. “And that thing you did with your spear was  _ cool _ . How did you even get it to behave like that?”

She was referring to how she commanded the chains to trap the Wraiths, most likely. It was developed more out of necessity than preference, if Kyoko was honest. Close combat was her forte, but sometimes that was not an option, or would have risked serious injury. This time was no different. The Wraiths were wandering too far, and she was afraid they had somehow sensed Sayaka’s presence.

“Magic.” She said simply, reaching into her pocket. And she remembered another reason she wanted to go out. “Is there a convenience store or something nearby?”

“Yeah.” Sayaka led the way, already forgetting her question in the excitement.

Kyoko shook her head and followed. She brushed away the smile threatening to emerge.

“So, blue.”

“I have a name.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Kyoko rolled her eyes, but didn’t correct herself. She did try to call her name properly, but found the word tangled up on her tongue. “Anyway, what’s the deal with you?”

“Huh?”

Even in today’s battle, Sayaka had stayed well out of her way. Despite the fact she was probably a lot closer than Kyoko would have approved.

“You seem… awfully familiar in watching people fight.”

First time might be a happy coincidence, but she could tell there was something more. Kyoko had a vague idea of what that might be, and she was not liking the idea one bit.

“Did you…” She swallowed. “Do you follow Mami around as well?”

Sayaka paused for a moment, then she picked up her pace again. She didn’t look back.

“I used to.” She admitted frankly. “Not anymore though. Nowadays it’s only Nagisa-chan.”

It wasn’t really a surprise, even though Mami should have known better than allowing something like that. It’s risky, both to herself and to her audiences.

“That’s really stupid of her.” She looked to the tiled walkway. “One day she’s gonna make a mistake, or that kid’s gonna get too close.”

Sayaka was quiet for a while, though she kept walking. They were coming upon the border of the shopping district.

“Maybe.” She finally said. “Maybe not. What I know is this-”

She stopped, turning fully to Kyoko. Their eyes locked, and despite the absurdity of the situation, Sayaka did look like she understood.

“Mami-san cares too much about Nagisa-chan to make a mistake.”

That was not a convincing argument at all. It was such a naive reason for sticking around someone you shouldn’t. The way Sayaka seemed to whole-heartedly believe otherwise both angered and saddened her.

“It’s not that easy.” She said quietly. “This world doesn’t operate on love and justice. One day it’ll betray them. It’ll betray you.”

Sayaka didn’t say a word, but judging from the way her eyes burned under the dim streetlight, Kyoko could tell she wasn’t listening. She sighed. It’s beyond her pay grade to try to convince someone so foolishly stubborn. Another victim of hero syndrome, no doubt. To those kind of people, there really wasn’t much she could do other than showing them how self-destructive their ideology was.

“That aside, why would you even want to follow her around anyway? I mean, I can imagine why Mami would allow it… but you must have realized by this point how ridiculous this is.”

She didn’t want to admit it, but she did feel some sense of fellowship to Sayaka. Whether it was because she saved Yuma, or simply because she was another person who knew the secret of Puella Magi without freaking out, or something else. That she did not know.

But she knew whatever nobility she saw in this work was misplaced. There was no glory nor gallantry in being a Puella Magi. The sooner she realized that the better.

Sayaka looked away first. She resumed their journey to the convenience store.

Kyoko breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe logic was still a viable solution to this particular problem. She was ready to resort to more drastic actions, but she really hoped it wouldn’t come to that.

“I know what you’re trying to say.” Sayaka’s voice drifted to her.

She looked to her again. Sayaka was also looking at her feet. Kyoko could barely see her expression.

“But… it’s for her, as much as it’s for ourselves.”

…maybe she would have to teach her a lesson with something more than words, soon. She didn’t fully understand the answer, but she was still sure whatever they were doing would bring no benefit to anyone.

She did not ask why Sayaka would follow her.


	5. Chapter 5

Morning arrived faster than she would have believed. There seemed no time to dream. Or perhaps the apartment simply devoured it when she was asleep.

Kyoko woke to the smell of bacon and toast.

Usually, the aroma of food only served to make her irritable. Whereas normal people had the freedom and capability to choose their meals, people like her would consider themselves lucky to find scrapes behind supermarket. Finding work as a teenager was nigh impossible legally, and still rather difficult even through unlawful means.

She pushed the sleeping bag off and rose, yawning and rubbing her eyes. Sayaka was humming in the kitchen. The sizzling of bacon grease splashed in the background.

She considered peeking in, but was suddenly reminded of the horrible dream from her nap the previous afternoon. So instead, she found the washroom and cleaned herself up. When she exited, Sayaka was laying down two plates on the table they bought yesterday.

“I know you’re gonna eat again when we get to Mami-san’s.” She said to her with half a scowl. “So I only prepared something simple.”

Kyoko’s instinct told her Sayaka was unhappy with her, but she could not even begin to guess the reason.

nodded her thanks before she joined her at the table. Whereas Sayaka took her time to enjoy the one piece of toast she made for herself, Kyoko all but inhaled the full plate of scrambled eggs and bacon.

When they set off to Mami’s again, the ground was just warming up. Sayaka shivered a little in the morning breeze.

“Don’t you have a jacket or something?”

“I didn’t bring one.”

“You could have gone home.”

Sayaka just shrugged.

Kyoko looked forward again. She picked up her pace. Sayaka had to jog to keep up with her.

The children opened the door this morning. Nagisa bowed and greeted both of them politely, but Yuma flew straight at Kyoko, hugging her midriffs with a happy squee.

Mami emerged from her kitchen after they entered. Today, her tray was filled with croissants, chopped-up lettuce sprinkled with halved cherry tomato, and a large bowl of corn flakes mixed with a variety of berries.

“Come on in.” She greeted them cordially. “We are just waiting for you.”

Kyoko finally pried Yuma off her after a bit of coaxing. When she looked up, she realized Mami had been observing them.

“What are you looking at?” She blurted out.

Mami took no offense from the aggression. Her smile widened as she put down the tray. “Nothing.”

It was more or less a repeat of the previous morning. They enjoyed the food. Sayaka and Mami chatted about fashion and local news. Yuma and Nagisa chimed in every now and then. And Kyoko only responded when she was spoken to directly.

At some point, the discussion moved on to school. Kyoko was not paying much attention until Sayaka turned to her and, jokingly, asked.

“Why don’t you come to school with us? It’s gotta be pretty boring having all day free.”

Kyoko snorted. “No thanks. Why’d I waste my time like that?”

A flash of hurt flitted past Sayaka’s expression. She covered it up quickly with exaggerated exasperation, but Kyoko saw it all the same. Sayaka was upset by something she said - that was evident, but which part exactly? None of the reason she could think of made any sense.

“Well, well.” Mami smoothed the tension over with a smile. “Sakura-san must be busy with her own tasks. It can’t be helped.”

Kyoko swallowed her attempt at amends with the last bit of croissant.

“School…” Yuma glanced up. Her tiny face scorched up in a tug-of-war between hopeful and hesitant.

Kyoko now regretted her remarks for a completely different reason. What she said was insensitive. From the bits and pieces she gathered from Yuma over the three years, she had understood there wasn’t much happiness in the child’s life. Her grandparents, who were kind and loved her dearly, were one of such rare treasure.

When she first learned of this, she had debated whether she should send Yuma back. But Yuma was more against it than she was, and so Kyoko eventually gave in. They were old, impoverished, and ill with the disease of age.

Yuma gave up the happiness of family and chose a life with Kyoko instead. But that wasn’t the only thing she gave up. Living off the grid meant it was necessary for her to stay hidden. She could never go back. Not to the house she grew up in. Not to the inheritance rightfully hers (however meager it may be). And not even the freedom of strolling down the street. Let along going back to school.

Granted, Yuma was not one of those ‘popular’ kid in school by any means, but she did have friends. Before her mother decided she would waste no more money on her only daughter, Yuma enjoyed the trivial life of a seven-year-old.

“I can show Yuma around!” Nagisa grinned brightly. “And introduce you to all my friends. Then we can all be friends and play together!”

“Nagisa really is a big girl now.” Mami patted her younger roommate affectionately. “It’s a wonderful idea, and admirable of you to volunteer. I’m truly proud.”

Kyoko watched Nagisa nuzzle against Mami with radiant joy and contentment. Not only because she was praised, but also because who it came from.

How familiar.

She snuffed out the bitter memory which stood as stark contrast to such heartwarming scene. This wasn’t about her. What’s important was what Yuma wanted. She may not be able to achieve Mami’s level, but she would be damned if she didn’t try her hardest for Yuma.

As expected, Yuma was looking at her for direction. It broke Kyoko’s heart that she felt the need to seek either approval or rejection.

How foolish of her to forget how much such simple joy meant for a child. Kyoko admonished herself. She may have gotten used to her self-exile, but that in no way meant Yuma had, or should. Kids her age should be running under the sun, chasing butterflies in the park and quarreling with other kids over inconsequential matters such as who get to play on the swing next.

She ruffled Yuma’s hair with a soft smile.

“If you want to go, then you should.”

Yuma perked up. More hopeful, but still uncertain. “But…”

“Don’t worry about a thing.” She told the child firmly. “You just do what you want. I’ll take care of the rest.”

When Yuma smiled at her, she didn’t feel at ease. She just felt guilty that she had waited this long to finally find the courage to give Yuma what normalcy she deserved all along.

“I don’t mean to be a downer…” Sayaka raised her hand sheepishly. “But how are you gonna get past the school’s background check? I mean, there is a reason Yuma-chan isn’t in school right now.”

Kyoko gritted her teeth. She was still trying to figure that out herself, but she didn’t want Yuma to worry. She would find a way somehow. Whether it be forgery, blackmail, or more violent methods. She was ready to accept the consequences.

Mami saw through her, apparently. She chuckled.

“Nagisa, could you please get my purse for me?”

Nagisa leapt up, did an informal salute, and bounded off. She returned seconds later and handed a yellow handbag to Mami. The blonde extracted a peace of paper and handed it to Kyoko.

From what she could understand, it was a business card of a lawyer. “What is this?” She frowned as she handed the card back.

“Oh, you know.” Mami’s smile turned somewhat mischievous. “Our ticket to a peaceful, not to mention legal, solution to this dilemma.”

Kyoko frowned, but she didn’t argue.

“Everything will be fine.” Mami reassured her. “Trust me.”

Mami was resourceful, both as a Puella Magi and as a sixteen-year-old girl. Kyoko knew that firsthand. Still, she could not help but be suspicious. After all, Mami had a tendency to carry more burden than she realistically could. It was a bad habit of hers Kyoko accepted would never go away.

 

* * *

 

After all the cups were emptied, Kyoko and Sayaka got up to leave. Kyoko was planning her patrol route when Mami unexpectedly spoke to her again.

“Ah, Sakura-san.”

Kyoko was alarmed. The way Mami called her name was both friendlier and more pleasant than it had any right to be. Her smile may be soft and gentle, but her eyes hid a glimmer of someone scheming.

She shuffled on her feet, looking away. “What?”

“I was just wondering.” Mami began with humble curiosity. “Would you like to stay the night? Yuma-chan had been missing you.”

Kyoko looked to Yuma, who beamed innocently at her.

She couldn’t exactly say no to that face, now, could she?

But at the same time, was it really wise to accept the invitation? She had already allowed too much kindness. The debt she owed to both Mami and Sayaka was piling higher and higher with each passing minute.

Nothing fundamentally changed about them between now and when they parted ways. She wasn’t ready to be part of Mami’s life yet. That she was sure.

Then again, how could she disappoint Yuma after she just vowed she would do everything within her power to bring her happiness?

“I-” She stammered. “It’s…”

Yuma looked at her quizzically. Mami’s smile was a trap. Kyoko knew nothing was going to play out according to their hopes. She braced herself for the mistake happening.

“Al-”

“Ah!” Sayaka exclaimed suddenly. She clapped her hands together in apology. “I almost forgot. We can’t stay, Mami-san. You see, we bought some furniture. The delivery guy would be arriving soon…”

Kyoko turned to her with evident confusion. She received a poorly concealed elbow for her trouble.

What’s her deal? If she’s looking for a fight, she would get one. They didn’t-

Oh.

“Ah, I see.” Mami’s smile faded for an instant, before she gave an understanding nod. As if to stress the point, she put her hands on Yuma’s shoulders. “For Sakura-san and Yuma-chan’s new residence. Of course. It can’t be helped then.”

Kyoko shuffled uncomfortably on the spot. She felt like she avoided a mousetrap only to step into the lion’s den.

“We’re going to live here? In this city?” Yuma tilted her head up to look at Mami, who nodded just as Kyoko opened her mouth to say the matter was undecided. The girl beamed. “Then I want to help!”

Frustration welled up. “Wa-”

Kyoko was interrupted by Mami’s soft chuckle. “Yuma-chan still needs to rest a bit more. We wouldn’t want you to overdo it now, hm?”

Yuma looked to Kyoko with a slight pout.

Kyoko was a little uneasy. She had never lied to Yuma before. There was no reason to. And even now, she believed if she just got some time to talk to Yuma alone, she could explain why she couldn’t stay here. In Mami’s place or in Mitakihara.

But that was too late now. She sighed and nodded, deciding to go with the flow.

“Okay…” Yuma looked a little downtrodden, but bounced back quickly. “But I want to see where we’re gonna live!”

“You just focus on getting better.” Kyoko ruffled her hair again. “Don’t worry about a thing.”

Nagisa, who had stood next to Mami and remained quiet all this time, piped up at that. “Yuma, let’s go! We gotta pack up for school tomorrow.”

Yuma looked around for any sign of displeasure from the three older girls. She found none.

“Go ahead. I’ll see you after school tomorrow.” Kyoko waved. “Don’t get too excited tonight. Remember to sleep.”

With a happy acknowledgement, the children ran off.

“Now…” Mami turned to both of them. Kyoko thought she would berate them for their dishonesty. Instead, Mami gave her a lonely smile and bowed slightly. “Please let me know if there is anything I can do to help. My door is always open.”

Kyoko didn't tell Mami that's the problem. She already had to shut that door for her once.

Sayaka led the way into a nearby park. She was quiet and bashful, unlike the confident and noisy girl Kyoko was slowly getting used to. She kept kicking pebbles down the road.

Finally, Kyoko decided to break the silence.

“Why would you lie?”

Sayaka missed the kick.

“It's not…” She fidgeted, searching the ground for the rock. “I just… were you going to say yes?”

“Maybe.”

“Oh.” Sayaka found it and sent it flying. “Did you want to? Stay I mean.”

She frowned. “No.”

“…I thought so.” She gazed after the stone. “Do you think you'd ever…?” She trailed off.

“What’s it to you?”

Sayaka didn’t answer. Kyoko sighed and rubbed her forehead. She knew this type of people - idealistic, self-righteous, a tendency to view everything in black-or-white… but also charitable and resolute.

“Look.” She tried the best stern voice she could muster. “I don’t know why you started hanging around Mami, but it’s in your best interest to stop. Stay out of the Puella Magi business. It’s a hell hole for the desperate, not someone normal.”

It struck a nerve. Sayaka turned fully to her. Her glare sharp as a saber. “If I don’t?”

“Then you’ll die.” Kyoko replied flatly. She held her ground, and even managed to stare the blue-haired girl down a little, despite she being the shorter of the two. “Fighting Wraiths is not a game. Life of a Puella Magi is not a fairy tale. Not even the people around them can be spared from misery. If you know the train is coming, why would you lay down on the track?”

Sayaka was shaking her head. “No. That’s not all of it. There’s hope. There’s miracle. There is…”

“Didn’t Mami tell you the most fundamental law of Puella Magi?” Kyoko cut in harshly. If the Wraiths didn’t get to this girl first, surely this naivete would kill her eventually. “For every miracle, there is a senseless tragedy. Every bit of hope is annulled by equivalent amount of despair. This is an empty sum system. You have to lose all you ever gained.”

Perhaps she was wrong to blame Mami for Sayaka’s belief. Judging from the lack of surprise, Mami did warn her about the nature of their work.

Still, Sayaka refused to accept this reality.

“I believe.” She was trembling slightly, but adamant. “I believe love and courage can still triumph, even in this world. I believe everybody can find happiness.”

“I didn’t deny that.” Kyoko whispered. “But like I said - happiness is relative and temporal. Eventually, it will be balanced out by sorrow.”

They were silent after that, both knowing full well words cannot convince the other anymore. Apathetic red clashed with passionate blue in a muted battle. Invisible blades and bullets swinging and shooting blindly everywhere.

Once upon a time, such devotion to one’s belief might have moved Kyoko, for she had committed herself to her faith as well, body and soul.

But she had since came to realize, her faith was nothing more than a projection of her own idea of justice. An unfair and incomplete expectation forced onto others. She failed to recognize her error before she violated the trust given. She even failed to redeem herself from her mistake.

Did she ever have a chance for redemption?

It was meaningless to contemplate such question, so she learned to accept the past for what it was. Everything that happened had only herself to blame. Living and suffering made no difference. There were merely irregularities in a system that naturally converges to zero.

Sayaka looked away first.

Kyoko kept her gaze steady. There was no victory. This was but one battle in a war in which she could predict the outcome. Her defeat had been decided the moment she uttered her wish.

She just wished her doom would be compensated by triumph for someone else. Even just a little bit, for a little while.

Sayaka turned. She stubbornly kept her chin up, but her regret was threatening to spill out.

Kyoko offered no gesture of comfort or words of apology. She had nothing to give. Though she did avert her eyes - she could at least let Sayakal keep her dignity.

After a while, Sayaka calmed down. Her nose was still a little pink, but she was smiling again. Like they didn’t just have a philosophical argument about whether one of them would die a horrible death.

“We should probably really get some furniture.”

Kyoko hesitated. It was relieving to see her mood improve so quickly, but…

“I never said I’m staying.”

Sayaka strained with the visible effort to stay cheerful. “Well, things can change.” She smiled thinly. “If Yuma-chan likes the school and life here, are you still going to leave?”

In all honesty, if Yuma could find a good home here and continue living normally, Kyoko wouldn’t mind staying away…

…okay. She would. But she would still do it, if she could be sure it would be better for Yuma.

Come to think of it, it was arrogant of her to assume nobody else could help Yuma as well as she did. Maybe she did feel that way for a while. But in the end, when forced to re-examine her behaviors, she had to admit it. She was selfish. As much as Yuma needed Kyoko, Kyoko needed the little girl more.

No matter how many times she snuffed it out, the hope would always grow in her heart. The hope that someday, she would be able to save someone. That someday she wouldn’t have to bury the person she ought to have protected.

She spun on her heel and began walking with single-minded determination.

“Wait! Kyoko-” Sayaka jogged to keep up. “Where are you going?”

Kyoko glanced at her quickly. She wore a worried frown. It didn’t suit her. “Didn’t you say to get some furniture?”

Sayaka let out a sigh of relief before she chuckled.

“You should really work on your communication skill.”

“Shut up.”

Like all the times before, Sayaka dismissed her unmannerliness as easy as popping a bubble.

“That’s the wrong way.”

Kyoko felt soft, warm hands holding onto her own, tugging gently but firmly. She stopped. And Sayaka stopped. Their eyes met again.

“Dummy.”

And Kyoko began to understand.

 

* * *

 

It wasn’t until much later that night, after Sayaka went home to prepare for school the next morning, and Kyoko was sitting cross-legged on the sleeping bag alone in the apartment, counting Grief Cubes, that she realized she had let Sayaka take her hand the entire way to the shop.


	6. Chapter 6

_She looked happy._ Kyoko reflected as the children raced down the sidewalk in a whirlwind of joy.

Nagisa was wearing a orange polka-dotted white dress. Her red backpack bouncing with each step. She had seen similar attire in the past three days, and frankly it suited well.

She didn’t recognize any of the clothes Yuma wore, the camo cargo pants, emerald collared short-sleeve, or cream-hued vest. They must have been hand-me-downs. Or perhaps Mami took them out shopping. She couldn’t tell how new the outfit was from this distance.

_Why did I hold her back for so long?_

The question left a bitter taste in her mouth, and the bitterness angered her.

Was she too caught up in her ordeal to recognize she was preventing Yuma from happiness? Was she afraid she would be abandoned? Did she hold her back because she was envious of the normalcy Yuma could have?

Did she still hope for those? Normalcy? Happiness?

She sensed the approach long before Mami opened the roof door. Long before she called out.

“I figured it was you.”

Kyoko didn't turn, just gripped the railing tighter.

“I wasn't hiding.”

“Then why not send her off to school? She was so excited…” Mami paused. “You could have walked with her. She'd liked that.”

Flakes of paint fell from her fingers.

_That's because she’s still too young to see. My cowardice or your conniving._

“Those two are getting along pretty well, aren’t they?” She pushed back from the railing. “I’m glad. She deserves a normal childhood.”

“So do you.”

Kyoko took a deep breath and turned to face Mami. Her former mentor had abandoned all pretense of pleasantry. Her lips pursed in a straight line. Her gaze soft and cool.

“You know better than that.”

“Yes, and I know you are wrong.”

There were only two wounded, lost girls standing on this roof.

All the strength, along with her belligerence, melted away like ice cream under summer heat. She felt years worth of exhaustion catching up in that few seconds. She didn't want to fight with Mami anymore. She didn't want to feel guilty about leaving anymore. She didn't want to have Mami waiting for her return, knowing she would smile with open arms.

“Here.” She tossed the Grief Cubes over. Mami caught them with expert accuracy. “I’m off.”

“Wait!” Mami called behind her. “Sakura-san, I-”

“You shouldn't have saved me.” She could see her reflection from Mami’s eyes, unmoving in the snow. Her world already ended. She was merely waiting for the rest of the universe to catch on. “Why did you save me? There was nothing left. There still isn't. If I fought and died, I'd have fulfilled my end of the bargain.”

“Because-” Mami wet her lips, trembling slightly like the last leaf of autumn.

It must be painful to lie. As painful as speaking the truth.

“Because you were my friend.”

She laughed bitterly.

“It doesn't have to-”

Kyoko turned away from the feeble attempt.  Her hands found the railing again, tracing its freckled surface. “You and I parted ways long ago.”

“Yet here we are.”

“Here we are.” She nodded to herself. Her palms pressed down on the metal rod, blocking the section bare of paint. “So is our past.”

Mami did not have a reply to that.

“They don't go away just because you shut your eyes.” She tried it anyway. Nope, still there, circling her like a shark driven wild by the scent of blood. “I appreciate what you’re doing for Yuma. I really do.”

The ‘but’ lingered in the air for a moment.

“We can’t go back anymore.”

She left Mami on the roof alone with her thoughts.

 

* * *

 

The exchange plagued her for the rest of the morning, despite her best attempt to keep a cool head.

There was a shadow before every swing of her spear. A wail of phantom blood after every enemy she fell. Under the melting faces of the Wraiths, she saw the look of betrayal from ghost of Christmas past.

She knew they were only byproducts of her weakened emotional state. She knew, logically anyway. However, that knowledge did not stop her from making mistakes. A stumble here. A split second of hesitation there… By the end of the first hour, she had already earned two deep gushes on her left arm, a puncture wound near her hip, and more scratches than she cared to count. It only got worse after that.

Fed up by the tangled mess of emotion and constant reminder of everything that went wrong in her life, she had no appetite when lunchtime came around. Kyoko kept pushing on with her conquest, slaying hordes after hordes of Wraiths.

When she finally stopped at dusk, panting from both physical and mental exertion, she had accumulated enough cuts and bruises to feel light-headed from blood loss. She transformed back to her civilian cloth and tottered to the closest shelter, the hidden clearing beneath a bridge.

Her knees buckled as soon as she dragged herself into the shadow. Kyoko slumped painfully against the concrete wall, clutching at her injuries.

She must make for a pitiful sight. Kyoko reflected with something between a guffaw and a grimace. A veteran Puella Magi making rookie mistakes. Wasn’t it ironic? Wasn’t it hilarious?

“You shouldn’t have.” She whispered angrily. “That sort of kindness is a double-edged sword. When will you learn?”

She wanted to cry. She wanted to scream. But she had neither tears nor voices. She was hollow, had been for a long time. The monster inside had consumed everything, yet refused to take the last bit of her resolve.

Kyoko didn’t know how long she stayed in the shadow. It felt as if she was walking on the line marking reality and the morbid, twisted rendering of it.

But something pulled her back. She rubbed at her face and pushed back a few loose strands of hair, like someone woken against their will. Her head pounded like someone installed a jackhammer inside while she was unaware. She shook her head, trying to rid of the sensation. The act only made her nauseated.

She summoned her Soul Gem. As expected, it was covered in splotches of blackness. Like dried blood.

Kyoko pulled out a few Grief Cubes from her pocket. She had gathered a considerable amount that morning, enough to last a Puella Magi experienced in conservation for two months at least. Even if she kept only a quarter of the spoils, it would still come to a surplus.

She put eight cubes in her palm, next to the manifestation of her soul. They absorbed the corruption quickly, like a man who had gone without water for days. She looked at the tainted cubes with disgust, and sighed.

The comfort from cleansing her Soul Gem was as empty as when she ate. The act merely repressed her growling stomach, but she had not felt full for a long time. In fact, all food started tasting the same to her after a while. She kept doing both just to keep herself alive, to deceive the monster. But it was almost like-

“It just pisses me off!”

A familiar voice drifted to her ears from the overpass. Kyoko could almost see the pout that had accompanied her for the past three days. She froze.

A different voice chuckled, a voice she did not recognize. “It seems you really care about this person, Sayaka-san.”

Just her luck.

Kyoko was too busy trying to figure out what she should do to listen in further on the conversation. Her body went rigid as her mind entered overdrive mode.

Should she try to sneak away quietly? Maybe the blue-haired girl wouldn’t notice…

She tried to stand, and immediately doubled over. The cut across her right knee had reopened. She sucked in a sharp breath when it smashed against the concrete.

The footsteps from above halted.

“Sayaka-san?”

“Did you hear something?”

Maybe there was someplace she could hide. One of those empty oil barrels maybe? But how was she going to clean up all this blood? It would lead them straight to her. What if she circled around the other side?

“I didn’t hear anything.” The stranger’s voice replied with a tinge of worry and confusion. “What was it you heard?”

Wait, why was she panicking?

Even if she was discovered, she could easily _convince_ them not to cause any trouble, like she had done to all other unfortunate witness.

 _But she would be worried. She would ask you what happened._ A voice said in her head. _In fact, Tomoe Mami probably told her about this morning already._

So? She didn’t do anything wrong. And it was none of their business what she thought or did. Why should she care about how they viewed her?

 _Yet._ The voice chuckled. _Yet you do._

Her eyes widened.

“I…” Sayaka hesitated. “…never mind. I probably heard it wrong.”

The footsteps resumed, as did the conversation. Kyoko sat against the wall, staring numbly at her hands. The used cubes shone black in the shadow.

The realization took effect slowly, like a rising river. There was nothing she could do but watch as it reached her waist, chest, shoulder, neck, and completely submerged her.

Kyoko bit her cheek hard. Her fangs tore through the skin. The taste of rusted iron filled her mouth like a ladybug landing on the screen of static television.

She sat there long after the sun had set, long after Kyuubey showed up to take away the corrupted cubes, long after the city had gone to sleep. One thought repeated in her head like a broken record.

If you know the train is coming, why would you lay down on the track?

If you know the train is coming, why would you lay down on the track?

If you know the train is coming, why would you lay down on the track?

She could hear the whistle screaming in the distance.

 


	7. Chapter 7

They were looking for her.

_ ‘Sakura-san, are you around?’ _

_ ‘Sakura-san, it’s almost time to come see Yuma-chan.’ _

_ ‘Sakura-san, dinner today is crab dip and cream puffs. Won’t you join us?’ _

_ ‘Sakura-san, please answer if you can hear this.’ _

_ ‘Sakura-san, where are you?’ _

_ ‘Sakura-san?’ _

Kyoko made it clear to Kyuubey the consequences the alien would suffer if they were to say anything to Mami. And although the creature was not afraid of the threat, it nevertheless understood and obeyed her will.

Mami’s voice dwindled with each step she took towards the opposite direction, until it faded into a whisper that was not heard but known. She wondered what Mami must feel and was almost sorry for severing the telepathic communication.

She wandered in the general direction of northwest. Near the apartment, she spotted Sayaka sprinting down the street. For a moment she hesitated, filled with the urge to get down from her vantage point on the roof and scold the blue-haired girl of lurking dangers of the night. She resisted the impulse and watched her disappear down a corner, before hopping to another roof.

Kyoko wasn’t an idiot. She knew eventually she had to go back. Before Mami came after her, before Yuma got too worried, before Sayaka called the police or did something equally stupid.

But right now? Right now she needed to get as far away from them as possible. She needed time and space to harden her resolve. Alone.

She also sensed hordes of Wraiths on her way. And that temptation was harder to resist than she would have expected. Every fiber of her being craved the chance to vent out her pent-up aggression.

But she knew if she was to leave any sign, Mami would no doubt deduce her location and pursue. The need to remain undetected ultimately outweighed her desire, and she stayed her hands until she reached the northwest border of Mitakihara.

Past the concrete jungle, a completely different side of the city revealed itself. Yards upon yards of farmlands with experimental crops. Humongous sports arena and public service buildings. The train tracks and highways all pointed towards mountains looming in the distance.

When she finally stopped, the night was already over. The first ray of dawn climbed up her back.

This was the farthest she had ever been from home. Kyoko realized as she gazed back to the sunrise. The billboard and street signs were foreign and barely comprehensible in the weak light. This might as well be another country.

The logical part of herself worried whether she could find her way back. The other parts stuttered and shut down.

She stole a can of iced coffee from a nearby vending machine. As the substance rejuvenated her brain, she reflected on her past in Mitakihara.

She had only ever been to the southern and eastern sectors, where Mami’s apartment, the school, and the hueless apartment were located. There was never need to visit this part of the city.

Another reason was because this used to be another Puella Magi’s territory. She had never met the other girl, nor did she know anything about her other than her existence. And even that was a second-hand knowledge. A tale from faraway land. She didn’t know if it still held true.

She crushed the empty can in her palm as three Wraiths sprouted up around her.

The smart thing to do would be to ask Kyuubey or simply retreat and scout the area a bit first. It’s risky to hunt in unfamiliar environment and plain idiotic to not check for competitors.

In her hand, the crushed aluminium cylinder transformed into a small cannon ball in sparkling red light.  _ What the hell. _ She thought as she idly shifted her gaze between the three Wraiths.  _ Let them come. _

Her arm whipped forward in a sideway throw. The ball obliterated the head of the leftmost Wraith.

In the few seconds she took to dispatch the other two, more Wraiths emerged in the distance. Kyoko followed the miasma like a hound, mowing down every single Wraith on the way. She paid little attention to where she was going, only veering away every so often when she felt she was getting too far to the south or east.

It was another successful day of hunting. Though she fared no better than the previous day. The lack of sleep was getting to her. New injuries overlapped old ones, and those she didn’t completely healed re-opened.

If someone was watching her, this would be a perfect time for ambush. Kyoko was aware of this. And well…

It didn't sound so bad.

She shook the thought away.

Presently, she was picking up her latest batch of Grief Cubes when Kyuubey materialized out of thin air again.

“What?” She spat out some blood that got into her mouth during the fight. “Thought I told you to fuck off.”

“It was not my intention to intrude.” The alien said. “I bear messages.”

She slammed the butt of her spear down on the creature’s midsection. “Didn’t I say not to tell them anything?”

“And I did not.” Kyuubey did not flinch from the assault or try to struggle out from under the strangling pressure. “You did not say they couldn’t contact you through me.”

She scowled and retracted her spear.

Kyuubey stood. “Tomoe Mami said she will be out hunting tomorrow night. She was running low on Grief Cubes.”

Kyoko said nothing. Her mind replayed their exchange on the roof the previous morning.  _ Bullshit _ .

“And Miki Sayaka said…”

“She couldn’t even see or hear you.”

“But I can.” The Incubator licked its paws. “Mami was with her when she summoned me. She wanted to let you know she would be staying at the apartment tonight.”

“What about her family?”

“I do not know.”

Kyoko took a moment to think. Where Sayaka decided to sleep or live was not something she had a right to interfere. And if Mami wanted to go hunting, it’s not really her place to stop her either. She was only humoring Kyoko when she agreed to the one-sided deal.

She squinted up to the rising daylight. She had been up for a while now. It would probably help her sort all these out after she found a shelter and some food. Maybe she would hunt some more Wraiths afterwards.

“I heard the message. You can go now.”

“Was there anything you’d like me to report back?”

Kyoko hesitated. She wasn’t doing this to spite them. But she  _ was _ doing this to make it clear she was not part of their happy little parade. To them, and to herself.

“No.”

But even long after Kyuubey left, she couldn’t stop thinking about the hueless apartment, and of the blue-haired girl sitting alone in it, waiting for her to come back.


	8. Chapter 8

Kyoko found an abandoned office building and took a nap among dusty desks and chairs. Her sleep was filled with distorted colors and haunting unease. When she woke from the restless dream, the last trace of orange was making its retreat out of the window.

She left her temporary bedroom in search of food, then of Wraiths. Neither assuaged her burning hunger or anxiety.

In the end, she found herself venturing closer and closer to the city center, as if pulled by an invisible magnet. Her latest battlefield happened along the railroad track, where she could see the apartment crouching low against the street, like the head of a snake.

The image of Sayaka, dressed in her uniform, sitting with her arms wrapped around her knees, alone in the vast empty room, flashed vividly across her mind.

Why couldn’t she just let go?

Kyoko struggled with herself for a long time. She wasn’t ready. The logical part of her told her she should just send Mami a message and be done with the whole charade.

_ Just a little bit. _ The other part of her insisted.  _ And tell Sayaka she should really go home. Her family’s gonna be worried. _

She couldn’t argue with that.

So Kyoko descended to ground level and followed along the quiet sidewalk, trying to shake off the lonesome image from her head.

The street was completely silent, and still. Her own shadow being the only exception as she slunk towards the apartment building. It elicited a similar kind of distress as the apartment did, though less profound or intense.

She stopped on the street and looked. She looked but there was nothing to look at. And it struck her where that unease came from.

Just like the apartment, there was nothing else here. During the handful of times she had been about, there was never one instance she detected other sign of life. There was never car whooshing past. No pedestrian coming or going. Not even a squirrel or bird.

Despite its proximity to various office buildings and the train station, the entire neighborhood appeared to be petrified in time. And its residents - if there were any - were isolated from the rest of the world.

A sudden dread and worry stirred in her gut. Kyoko hastened her pace. She hurried to the front, shoved the lobby door open, bounded up the marble stair, and ran down the hallway.

Not one soul peeked out to see what the ruckus was about.

She came to the last door and reached for the knob, heart pounding in her ears.

Then she stopped.

Reasons came back to her like a car crashing into her side. She flinched from the door, hand balled into a fist. There was nothing to be afraid of. Not even the Wraiths. She had seen to it that the neighborhood was cleansed of them. The most dangerous thing in this area, arguably, was herself.

She was still panting slightly and shaking. She took a step back and turned away from the door.

_ Just calm down, think about what you’re gonna say, and get Sayaka home as soon as possible. _

There wasn’t even much to talk about, anyway. She was alright, just went on a hunting trip to the other side of the city. Maybe she lost track of time. Maybe she just felt like wandering from place to place. No big deal.

Yeah, there was no reason why-

The apartment door flew open.

Kyoko leapt backward and looked to the source of the noise at the same time. There, with an expression that exemplified indignation, stood Miki Sayaka.

“Oh.” Kyoko muttered under her breath. “Hey-”

Without a word, Sayaka pulled her into the apartment and slammed the door shut behind her. Kyoko was caught off guard by the move. She stumbled a few steps before she regained her balance.

“The hell-”

She turned to complain, but her words evaporated mid-sentence.

It was evident she had been crying. Her eyes were red and puffy. There were bags under them. Dried streaks marred her face. Her hair and cloth were both disheveled.

“Where have you been?!” Sayaka hissed, tears boiling in her eyes.

Kyoko was too stunned to think properly. She stepped back and looked away defensively. “…it’s none of your business.”

She regretted it almost as soon as she heard herself say those words. She didn’t meant to be ungrateful. It’s just… this reaction was much more severe than she had expected.

“Not my business?” Sayaka repeated in whisper first, as if trying to confirm what she heard. She repeated again, raising her voice. “Not my business?!”

Kyoko dared to look up. Sayaka was shaking from anger, and something else.

“Not my-” She bit down on her lower-lip, then raised a hand to wipe her face furiously with her sleeves. “I was so worried!”

Kyoko was at a loss of what to say or do. “O-oi…” She tried feebly.

Sayaka ignored her.

“After Mami-san told me what you said yesterday morning, I couldn’t-” She sniffed. “-and I waited. I waited for so long but you never- you never-” She was choking now. “I made dinner and you didn’t come back and I was so afraid something happened and I thought- I thought-”

She trailed off into quiet sobs.

Kyoko swallowed thickly. It still didn’t make any sense why Sayaka would care so much about someone she had just met. And if she was this upset already when they barely knew each other, what would happen if they became friends?

She should push her away and stop this folly.

Kyoko raised her hands.

Sayaka was still sobbing, her hands gripping on her elbows. She looked so fragile.

“…I’m sorry.” Instead, Kyoko laid her hands on Sayaka’s shoulders gently, and murmured. “I didn’t mean to make you worry. Please don’t cry. I’m really sorry.”

She was making a terrible mistake.

Sayaka crashed into her arms, fingers digging into her jacket with desperate force. Like she was holding on for dear life.

Unthinkingly, Kyoko wrapped her arms around her trembling form. She was watching herself hold Sayaka from outside, from somewhere beyond. She was making a terrible mistake by comforting Sayaka and giving her reasons to believe there would be anything other than misery.

Yet she couldn’t let go.

“Don’t do that again.” Sayaka sobbed into her embrace. “Don’t ever do that again.”

_ It’s inevitable. _

Something clicked inside, like a puzzle she should recognize.

Her limbs returned under her command. She became painfully aware of the physical contact. But instead of doing what she had intended to do, she swallowed all the bitterness and continued holding Sayaka just a bit more tenderly.

“I won’t.”

And she lied.

 

* * *

 

After Sayaka calmed down, she found her cellphone from her schoolbag and called Mami. Her voice was still coarse with crying, but she made it up with cheerful tone and words.

Kyoko sat across from her at the dining table, wolfing down the dinner Sayaka microwaved. She couldn’t bring herself to look up, still waging a war against herself over the series of event. One side of her still thought it best to cut ties with Mami and Sayaka. One side of her insisted she could help them. Another side argued she should make decisions based on whether it would be more beneficial or harmful in the long term…

When she asked that part of herself what was beneficial and what was harmful, all the voices quieted down.

_ Back to square one. _ She thought bitterly.

“Kyoko?”

She raised her head. Sayaka was holding out her phone. Her eyes were still red and puffy. It would stay like that until tomorrow at least.

Kyoko stared at the phone.

“Mami-san’s put Yuma-chan on.” Sayaka explained. Her smile was soft, although tired.

Kyoko hesitated. She put down her chopsticks and took the phone guiltily.

“Thanks.” She murmured and stood up from the table. “‘Ello?”

“Kyoko?”

A smile crept up. “Hey, kiddo.” She greeted Yuma. “Sorry I bailed on you yesterday. How was first day at school?”

“Hmm.” Yuma paused for a moment.

Kyoko imagined she must be debating whether she should ask. She did not.

“It’s good!” Yuma chirped. “Nagisa-chan showed me around. Everybody was really nice. The teacher too. I got into the same class as Nagisa-chan.”

“How was your new classmates?” Kyoko made a mental note to thank Nagisa later, with cheesecake. “Anyone made fun of you?”

“Uh-uh. Everyone was really nice.”

“Good. And how about schoolwork? You understanding the lessons alright?”

“Mhmm. And Mami-neechan helped me with homework.” Yuma snickered, then whispered as if telling a secret. “Nagisa-chan was supposed to help, but we both ended up asking Mami-neechan.”

Nagisa protested in the background. Mami was chuckling while she consoled the girl.

Kyoko laughed despite herself.

Yuma continued talking about her days at school. Not just yesterday, but today as well. From her vivid description, Kyoko could almost see Yuma running with other children in the courtyard, playing hide-and-seek.

A pond with drifting lotus leaves. A parterre with patches of azalea, plum blossom, periwinkles, and other colorful flowers. A pavilion with tables that had chess board carved on them.

Adventurous boys and girls trying their hands at climbing eucalyptus trees. Sunlight cascading down between transparent leaves, falling on their faces with the whisks.

And she could even hear tiny feet stomping on rubber mats. Sands shifting in the wind. Balls bouncing across the field. Metal chains squeaking in sync with the innocent laughters of children.

If she closed her eyes, she would be able to pretend she was there with her. She might be able to forget all that befell them. Yuma hopping in her oversized cargo pants and vest. And Momo too. The hem of her dress whipping in the wind as she ran.

She forgot about time. It wasn’t until Yuma let out a small yawn that Kyoko realized how late it must be.

“Go to bed.” She said to the child gently, the smile still lingering over her words. “Otherwise you won’t be able to get up on time tomorrow.”

“But I don’t wanna.”

“Be good.” Kyoko told her, but there was no sternness in her voice. “Nagisa also needs to sleep, and Mami too. Besides, who’s gonna pay the phone bill?”

Yuma made a noise of ‘muuuuu’, before she reluctantly obeyed.

Before they hung up, Yuma called to her again.

“Kyoko?”

“Yeah?”

“Will you come by tomorrow?”

Kyoko paused for a moment. She wondered what her expression was like at that moment.

“Yeah.” She told Yuma. “Yeah, I will.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

The phone was warm with her temperature. Kyoko hadn’t realized how long they had been talking until she put the phone down. The screen was a little blurry. She saw that they had talked for more than an hour.

Slightly embarrassed, she turned around to hand the phone back to Sayaka.

She was asleep. Her face half buried in her arms on the dining table. Kyoko watched her back rise and fall with her breathing. Her plate of food remained untouched.

Kyoko swallowed the lump that suddenly formed in her throat. She tiptoed to Sayaka, debating with herself whether she should wake her. If she slept like that, she would surely get neck and back pain in the morning.

She laid a tentative hand on her shoulder.

“Oi.”

Sayaka did not move.

Up close, Kyoko could see how tired she actually was. And it was not just the bag under her eyes, or the messy hair, or the wrinkled clothes. Had she always been so thin? In sleep, she looked smaller, more fragile. Not at all the confident, upbeat girl who did everything at her own pace.

As she watched her, something swelled in her chest. Kyoko could not quite describe it, only that it filled holes she wasn’t even aware were there.

Sayaka stirred. Kyoko pulled her hand back on instinct, afraid she had awaken her.

“…lease…” Sayaka mumbled in her sleep. Her voice was frail and pained. “…want to…”

Kyoko leaned in a bit closer. She knew she shouldn’t. It was an invasion of privacy. Everyone had things they never wished to reveal to others, she knew that better than anyone.

“…don’t take…” Sayaka was sobbing in her dream. “…I want to fight too.”

For some reason, it broke her heart.

“You shouldn’t have to.” She told Sayaka.

But Sayaka didn’t hear it. She was still trapped in her nightmare.

A surge of guilt and gratitude overcame Kyoko. She wanted to do something for this foolish girl. If she would eventually break her promise, then at least… at least let her compensate it somehow.

With that thought in mind, Kyoko gently lifted Sayaka from her seat by the table. Sayaka dreamt on, oblivious of the world as Kyoko supported her head with one arm, and wrapped another under her knees.

Sayaka was lighter than she expected. Kyoko discovered. Even considering her superhuman strength, Sayaka was still too light. So light that Kyoko wondered how she had yet floated away.

Sayaka nuzzled against her, trembling slightly. The tears had stopped, and it seemed she was in a peaceful slumber for the time being.

Kyoko carried her to the sleeping bags. They were laid out side by side at the corner. She kicked hers over Sayaka’s to make for a more comfortable bed. Then, with excessive caution, she laid the girl down. Sayaka whined at the loss of warmth, and Kyoko immediately took off her hoodie to drape over her like a blanket.

_ Now I lay her down to sleep… _

The old prayer came to her mind. She smiled, kneeled beside the dreaming girl, and clasped her hands together.

_ Now I lay her down to sleep, _ _   
_ _ I pray the Lord her soul to keep. _ _   
_ _ If she should die before I wake, _ _   
_ __ I pray the Lord her soul to take.

  
  
  



	9. Chapter 9

“Ah! Sayaka-san, did something happen?”

Kyoko cringed at the exclamation.

As expected, Sayaka’s eyes were still red and swollen when they woke up in the morning. Sayaka did what she could to lessen the swelling, which was not much. She didn’t complain to Kyoko as she rushed around preparing for school, but she did shoot an accusing glance at her before she ran out of the door.

Well, it  _ was _ kind of her fault.

“Ahaha.” Sayaka laughed. “I just watched some soppy romance last night.”

“Oh?”

Sayaka then proceeded to fabricate a dramatic story involving an imaginative female character and her love interest, who was a dense idiot - Sayaka insisted - and didn’t understand all the hardship and struggles she was going through.

Kyoko wasn’t sure why, but she felt slightly insulted listening to that story.

She shook her head. Well, Sayaka seemed okay now. There was really no point for her to linger. She had work to do.

Kyoko turned around and went off hunting again.

  
  


That afternoon, she approached the front gate of Mitakihara Junior High with a bag of Taiyaki in her arms.

She had promised that morning to meet Mami and Sayaka there when school was over. It was Sayaka’s idea. Although it annoyed Kyoko to no end, she begrudgingly accepted the arrangement considering how upset Sayaka was over the whole thing of her leaving without warning.

She walked at a leisurely pace, stuffing one Taiyaki after another in her mouth. She was late, she knew that. A part of her worried how Sayaka would react, but another part insisted it was no big deal.

Well, that part of her also insisted her wandering away was no big deal, and see how well that turned out.

She spotted Sayaka and Mami by the front gate from faraway. The former was frowning and pacing anxiously while the latter just smiled and waited by the side, holding her school bag in front, her hands barely visible beneath the gray cashmere jacket.

Kyoko stopped in her track, caught by a sudden realization. She had never seen this outfit on Mami before. Because it was not the uniform of Mitakihara Junior High.

_ Ah. _ The thought came to her like the bouquet of asphodelus her father used to lay on the stones after a service.  _ It had really been three years. _

Perhaps sensing her magic signature, Mami turned with a start. When their eyes met, she seemed baffled by her presence for a brief moment, as if she had forgotten they were going to meet. She then looked down to herself as if becoming aware of Kyoko’s inner thought.

As for what she may be thinking, Kyoko had no way of telling. This was not the Mami she had met three years ago. She was already well on her way to another stage of her life. If it was even possible for Puella Magi to have such a thing.

Mami touched her ribbon for a moment, as if looking for courage. She took a deep breath, did not look back to Kyoko, and instead tapped her underclassmate on the shoulder as if passing a baton, 

Sayaka jolted and followed Mami’s gesture. When she saw Kyoko, her anxiety morphed into unmistakable relief. She charged, barely holding onto her own bag, and started rambling.

“You’re late!” Sayaka scolded. “Where were you? Did something happen? What-”

“Relax. I just took a detour.” Kyoko waved a hand dismissively. Her gaze lingered on the cream-colored uniform for a moment, before she remembered the bag in her arm. She offered one to Sayaka. “Want some?”

Sayaka stared at her, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water for a few seconds. Then, she wordlessly snatched one from the bag and stuffed it tail-first into her mouth. Her face a bright pink.

Mami came up to their side and smiled.

“Sakura-san, it’s nice for you to join us.” She greeted gracefully.

Kyoko gave a sharp nod in acknowledgement, but said nothing more.

Mami’s expression gained the quality of a piece of paper falling into a puddle. She backed away slightly, before taking the lead towards her home. Kyoko followed in a respectable distance, still unwilling to have the new uniform anywhere within her vision. As if it offended her.

Sayaka hesitate between them for a moment, before she trailed alongside Kyoko. Her fingers grasped the tail of her jacket.

Kyoko frowned and peered at her.

“What are you doing?”

Sayaka didn't meet her eyes. “Just shut up and walk.”

She tried to put it out of her mind. In all likelihood, Sayaka was still upset about yesterday. If this helped, she would allow it, for now.

The little parade continued in silence until they arrived at the destination. 

When Mami extracted her key to turn the lock, there was a small yelp coming from inside. And loud, urgent whispers.

“Nagisa?” Mami called out, worried. “Yuma-chan?”

Kyoko peered in as well.

Yuma sat by the coffee table, giggling uncontrollably. They followed her line of sight to see white a flick of white poking out from behind the couch.

“What are you doing?” Mami puzzled over her roommate’s strange behavior as she walked around the furniture. “Come on out. It is impolite to not properly greet you guests.”

Nagisa scrambled away from the other side. As Mami neared the back, she came out front. Kyoko got a perfect look at her face when the girl nervously checked for Mami’s position.

There were bits of crumbs around her mouth.

Yuma burst out laughing at the sight, throwing herself to the ground and rolling. Sayaka’s own giggle evolved into a laughter. Even Kyoko felt a chuckle bubbling up from her chest.

Mami remained confused for only a few more moments, before inevitably she spotted the evidence.

“Nagisa!” She chided. “Did you sneak a bite of the cake?”

Nagisa shook her head fervently, then she noticed the flying crumbs. Caught red-handed, she lowered her head in admittance.

“Mou!” Mami put both hands on her hips. “It’s unbecoming. Why didn’t you wait?”

Nagisa whined. “But you were taking so looooooooooooong.”

Kyoko scratched her nose a bit sheepishly. Sayaka snickered behind her.

“Mamiiiii.” Nagisa scurried to her elder’s side and cuddled up. Her arms wrapped loosely around Mami’s waist as she tilted her head up in an adorable pout. “I’m sorry. Please don’t be mad?”

Mami’s sternness visibly melted away. “Mou…” She caressed the top of the child’s head with a sigh. “Come help me make tea?”

Nagisa nodded happily.

Kyoko and Sayaka settled around the table as their hostesses walked to the kitchen, hand in hand. Yuma scooted over to make room.

Unexpectedly, Sayaka walked to the far end and sat down. Kyoko noted this would mean she was switching seat with Sayaka compared to the previous times. But she could not find any significance behind the gesture.

She put that aside and sat down next to Yuma. “Did you sneak a bite too?” She ruffled her hair with a grin.

“Ahhh. Stooooop.” Yuma made a half-hearted attempt at batting Kyoko’s hand away, still giggling. “Sayaka-neechan, help me!”

Before Sayaka could reply, Kyoko dug her fingers under Yuma’s arms and began tickling her.

“Hey, don’t ask others to fight your battle.”

“Kyoko’s being mean!”

“Am I? Hmmm. I’ll show you mean.”

“Waaaaahahahaha nooooooo hahahahaha.”

Sayaka looked like she really wanted to help Yuma. But she also seemed to know Kyoko could probably take on both of them at the same time. Kyoko shot her a smirk before redoubling her tickling attack.

Yuma tried to wriggle out of the way, but she was too small. Besides, all her strength seeped away in her laughters.

“You give up?”

Yuma was still laughing when she nodded. Kyoko stopped as abruptly as she started. And Sayaka let out a small sigh.

“Alright. Now sit up.”

Kyoko pulled Yuma from the floor and straightened her cloth. As soon as the child calmed down, she made a face at Kyoko. “Meanie.”

Kyoko raised a brow. “What’s that?”

Yuma turned to Sayaka with a kicked puppy look. “Sayaka-neechan…”

Ohoho. Did she honestly think Sayaka could avenge her? Kyoko laughed inwardly but pulled Yuma back by the back of her collar. She wasn’t in a mood for a tickling war with Sayaka. It felt a bit… too intimate.

“Hey, get back here.” She pinched Yuma’s cheek lightly. “You still didn’t answer me.”

Yuma pouted up at her, already forgetting the reinforcement she was trying to solicit a few seconds ago. “Why’d Kyoko assume I did bad thing?”

“Well, did you?”

Yuma frowned, and leaned close to Kyoko’s ears. She cleared her throat pointedly…

Then she cracked and began giggling again. “Yeah.”

Kyoko laughed with her, and patted her head again affectionately. “Good girl.”

“…you’re a bad influence.” Sayaka grumbled at the end of the table. She had raised a brow in disapproval, but Kyoko could see from the small smile tugging her lips that she didn’t really mean that. Not in a bad way at least. So she just shrugged and ignored the remark.

Mami and Nagisa returned with two trays. The latter was talking excitedly about some new video game she saw, while the former smiled and listened patiently. They seemed to already forget about the whole cake scandal.

Kyoko saw no reason to remind them.

"Today’s dessert is special.” Mami beamed with pride as she exchanged a smile with Nagisa. “Yuma-chan and Nagisa baked the cake at school.”

Kyoko leaned back with a smug grin. “Then I guess it’s really not sneaking. They made it. It’s theirs.”

Mami shot her a glare, which she ignored. Nagisa and Yuma looked at each other, before erupting into poorly concealed giggles.

“Well,” Mami huffed. “It’s the principle of things.”

Despite that, she still handed Kyoko the first piece of cake.

Kyoko dug in without a second word. Yuma and Nagisa were comparing the sizes of their respective shares. She only realized something was amiss when Sayaka and Mami took a bite at their own cake.

“Ahem.” Mami took a sip from her tea. “By the way, Nagisa, Yuma-chan, how much sugar did you…?”

Yuma tilted her head in mild confusion. “Four cups?”

“Eh?” Nagisa blinked. “Didn’t the teacher say one fourth?”

The children exchanged a look, then smiled sheepishly, rubbing the back of their heads.

“Ooops…”

“Huh.” Kyoko stopped eating. She stared down at her half-eaten cake in amazement. “Really? I don’t taste anything.”

_ She sat in front of a mountain of food. Colorful wrappings torn and discarded carelessly to the side. None of them was how they were supposed to be. They crumbled or melted on her tongue. She chewed with vengeance, seeking for something, anything. _

She tensed and promptly shut up. Not now, why did she have to remember it now?

_ There was nothing. They were all the same. Even the texture began to blend after a while. “That’s because you gave up on it,” the Incubator said. “Just like how you denied your magic.” _

Both Mami and Sayaka noticed her slip of tongue. They looked at her with curious concern.

_ She just wanted to taste the sweet crispness of apple, for one last time. _

And the curiosity faded, leaving only concern. Then realization.

Kyoko forced herself to chuckle. It sounded like nails scraping on chalkboard. “Well, if it’s too sweet for y’all, I’ll eat the whole thing.” She moved her fork towards the cake at the center. It was shaking.

Her attempt to lighten the mood was unsuccessful. Sayaka exchanged a stunned look with Mami, and Kyoko knew they had figured it out. She didn’t have a sweet tooth.

_ Why should they be so shocked? _ She distracted her bitter thoughts by trying to wage a cake war with the children. Nagisa and Yuma had leapt up from their seats, squeaking as they tried to fend off Kyoko’s fork. They were losing precious territory fast.

_ -and it wasn’t anything serious, really. _

“Nooooo, Kyoko the Cake Monster is going to absorb all of our cake!”

“Who you calling a Cake Monster?”

Her fork shot towards Yuma’s plate and left with a considerable chunk of cake. The girl gasped in horror as Kyoko devoured it.

“Get her arm! Get her arm!” Nagisa cheered in the background.

Yuma did so, but Kyoko was well prepared. She held Yuma at arm’s length as she deliberately licked the fork clean.

It took the children a few moments to learn that they had to ally together to stop this ruthless invader. Once they figured that out, they even managed to steal a few forkful from Kyoko’s plate.

Mami and Sayaka only watched.

_ -it didn’t hinder her ability as a magical girl in any way. _

“Ha! Your struggle is futile. I shall devour this delicious cake all by myself… along with all the cookies and cheese in this world!”

“Not the cheese!”

Kyoko struggled half-heartedly with Yuma hang off her arm. She narrowed her eyes at Nagisa, who stood with two forks (she stole Mami’s. It’s okay because it’s an emergency), and smirked.

“Hurry, Comrade Nagisa! Save the cake!”

“You will be remembered, o’ Yuma the Brave! I shall fulfill your wish and lead our people onward.”

Her fork shot toward the cake like a missile, but Nagisa valiantly pulled the plate out of her reach. She held it triumphantly above her head.

Kyoko tried to lurch towards it, but Yuma tackled her in the stomach. It knocked the wind out of her.

_ -and what good was tasting them anyway? Sourness, saltiness, or umami. What does it matter if they left only a dull, fading sensation on her tongue? _

“Build a world where everyone shall have cake!”

“For the kingdom of sweets!”

Kyoko fell backward with Yuma sprawled on top of her.

How heroic. How noble.

“This- this is impossible. No! There will be more Cake Monsters.” She made a strangled noise as she reached up a hand shakily, doing her best imitation of those comical villains in children’s cartoon. “One day we will conquer your kingdom… ahhhhhh…”

_ -and sweetness was but a distant concept. Like heaven or God. _

The children cheered over the defeat of the Cake Monster.

  
  


Nagisa and Yuma volunteered to do the dishes, by themselves, today. Mami praised them with an encouraging smile before they hopped off into the kitchen.

Now it was just the three girls by the table, again.

Mami was sipping her tea, looking thoughtful and melancholy, and Sayaka was hugging her knees with a deep frown. Kyoko was reluctant to be the one to breach this silence, so she settled to looking over to the kitchen and listening to the children’s chatter.

Yuma was happy here. There was no question about that. Of course she would, surrounded by another kid close to her age, and cared by someone like Mami…

Maybe it was time she left for good?

The question squeezed down on her lungs. She had to fight to breathe.

In the three years they lived together under the ruined church, never once had the thought crossed Kyoko’s mind. Yuma needed her. It seemed so obvious. Of course she couldn’t leave.

But perhaps, that was just a lie she used to justify her actions. She needed to believe she was giving the child her best chance at a happy life, by protecting her from the Puella Magi business. By - her breathing faltered with the horrible truth - by keeping her away from her real family. People who could actually provide for her.

Kyoko had shunned away from that opportunity once already. After she heard the police giving up searching for the orphan girl, it became easier to convince herself Yuma had nowhere else to go.

But here was another chance. With Mami and Nagisa, Yuma could live a normal life. Could she ever let it slip by? Would she ever be able to forgive herself?

_ It would be best for Yuma. _

Now the truth unfolded in her mind, she could see it more clearly. She kept Yuma by her side because she wanted to save herself from her shame. It was all to serve herself. Why would it be otherwise? It was her motto after all.

But even though she was a monster, there was a line she just couldn’t cross. Denying Yuma of her future… that would be the exact same thing her father did when he sunk the knife in Momo…

Kyoko felt a sudden bump to her shoulder. She snapped her head around to find Sayaka scooted over to her side with the agitation of a Spanish bull trapped in a ring. The bump came from her head, which currently rested on her shoulder.

Instinctively, Kyoko wanted to pull away, but if she did, Sayaka would probably topple over.

Sayaka tilted her head up so their eyes connected.

“Yuma-chan looks happy with you.”

Maybe she should let her fall.

She pushed the urge away and did her best to scoff. The sound came out strained.

“Where did that come from?”

“Because you look like a kicked puppy.”

“What? That’s stupid.” She pulled herself free and shoved at Sayaka lightly. “And get off. You’re heavy.”

Sayaka frowned, but not entirely because Kyoko just touched upon a topic all normal teenage girls were sensitive at. “I was serious.”

“About what?” The scoff was more natural this time. “I don’t look like a kicked puppy.”

“No.” Sayaka put one hand atop Kyoko’s. “I mean… I mean I was serious yesterday. Don’t do that again. Don’t you dare ever do that again.”

“Jesus.” Kyoko laughed at the absurdity this conversation was heading. “Look, I’m a Puella Magi. Sometimes that means I run around looking for kills, yeah? Wrap your head around that. Idiot.”

Sayaka glared at her for a moment, before she abruptly headbutted her.

“The fu-”

Mami cleared her throat pointedly.

They both halted trying to hit each other and turned towards their senior.

“Sakura-san.” Mami began with a calm, soothing voice. But her hands were on her knees, and trembling slightly. “When did it start?”

Kyoko looked away. She had thought they would get the hint and leave that matter alone.

“What does it matter?”

“It does to me.”

“Then you care too much.”

She never meant for them to find out, especially Mami. Because Mami was the sort of person to blame herself for every little thing that was her fault.

It of course did not help that Mami had been there and completely oblivious when Kyoko’s condition started.

Mami raised her hands. They hung in the air for a moment if trying to catch something.

Kyoko glared at those hands.

_ Don’t. _ She tried her best to convey that without speaking.  _ I certainly wasn’t paying it any attention. There were more important things for me to break over back then. _

And in fact she didn’t even realize the full extent of her disability - if you insist calling it that - weeks after she broke ties with Mami. She was wandering on the street of Kazamino digging through garbage trucks for unspoiled food when it suddenly hit her.

Mami lowered her hands. They found the teacup in front of her. She gripped it until her knuckles turned white, and took a long sip.

Kyoko did not know what to say or do. Neither did Sayaka.

.When Mami put her cup down, her face was back to a mask of calmness and grace.

“Nagisa-chan, Yuma-chan?” She called to the kitchen, her index finger tracing over the mouth of the cup. It hummed in eerie symphony with Mami’s voice. “I just remembered something - we ran out of milk. Do you think you could get some form the grocery store?”

Nagisa poked her head out from the kitchen and nodded enthusiastically. Yuma followed suite.

This was the perfect opportunity to get out of here and clear her head. And… well, maybe to get away for a little.

“I’ll go.” Kyoko stood from the table. “You got any money?”

Mami ignored her.

“Oi-”

“I got it!” Nagisa chirped from the kitchen. She patted her hands on her dress as she raced to the door. “Come on, Yuma-chan.”

“Nagisa is really a big girl now.” Mami offered her sweet compliments. She acted like Kyoko wasn’t even there. “And Yuma-chan too. So reliable!”

“But I said-”

“Kyoko just stay here.” Yuma was already putting on her shoes as Kyoko tried to get Mami to acknowledge her. She winked. “I’m a big girl too!”

“I didn’t say you aren’t-”

“Besides, we can’t let the Cake Monster escape! Ne? Yuma the Brave.”

“That’s right, Comrade Nagisa.”

Kyoko was speechless. She wasn’t expecting that to come back and bite her in the ass. There was nothing she could do to get out of the situation unless she forced it, and that would just be foolish.

She balled her fist and kept her mouth shut as the kids ran off. The door slammed shut behind them.

Mami finally looked at her. She commanded her to sit down with a glare.

“Now.” She folded her hands over her lap. “I think it’s due time we talk about your… action, the other day.”

She was doing a terrible job at keeping up her facade of a calm, rational senior.

“There’s nothing to talk about.” Kyoko sat down begrudgingly and insisted. “I just wanted to go to a different area to hunt. What’s wrong with that?”

“Be that as it may,” Mami replied a little too loudly. “It does not change the fact that your… ah, adventure, caused great inconvenience to both Miki-san and myself.”

The resentment was clear in her voice. It was like she wasn’t even trying to hide it.

Kyoko snarled. They could play.

“I don’t see how me being gone for one day can cause any trouble.”

“It is a fact regardless of how you might think, Sakura-san.”

Mami rebutted a little too quickly, too forcefully. Her folded hands balled up in agitation as well, knuckles turning white again. They glared at each other for several tense seconds, before Mami regained her composure. She sighed and relaxed.

“To avoid such problem from occurring again, I have a proposal.” She said like she was reading off a script.

“Sure you do.”

Kyoko shifted in the cushion. She had a bad feeling about this.

“In case you are out of range for telepathic communication, as you  _ evidently _ were when I tried to contact you the day before-” Mami shot her a look. “-and to lessen the chance of you forgetting to reply, I recommend you keep a phone with you.”

Kyoko swallowed her impulse to ridicule the idea right off the bat. She mimicked the way Mami picked up her teacup shortly beforehand.

“That’s what you think?”

Mami nodded.

_ So that’s how they’re going to do this. _ Kyoko thought.  _ Fine. _

“Well, one big problem.” She sipped from the cup. It was cold and bitter. Funny, that happened to be the only flavor she could still taste at its fullest. “I don’t have any money.”

She let the statement hung there for a moment.

Surely there was nothing Mami could do to change that without admitting her intention. Surely there was no way Mami could force this upon her. Surely she had won this round.

Wrong.

“I can help with that.” Sayaka chimed in like it just occurred to her. “I just happen to have a spare.”

Kyoko snapped her head to the blue-haired girl and glared. She realized too late she had been set up.

“Why the fuck would you keep another phone?” She blurted out without thinking.

Sayaka only shrugged, as if saying ‘I just do’.

“That’s that then.” Mami continued like there was nothing wrong with that suggestion. Of course, they had planned this all out. “Which reminds me, Miki-san has also volunteered to make dinner for you from now on. You don’t have to keep living like a… like you did.”

_ ‘Thief’ is the word you’re looking for. _ Kyoko wanted to say. But aside from that, she also wanted to express her indignation.

What Mami suggested was not that much different from what Sayaka and Kyoko had been doing for the past couple days, really. But once that silent agreement was put into words, there was no way Kyoko could turn a blind eye.

“Oi.”

Because she could not bring herself to admit she needed others to survive. Being self-sufficient was an important aspect to the existence of Sakura Kyoko the Puella Magi. She had suppressed the part of her that yearned for companionship, direction, and understanding.

If they kept this up, she wasn’t sure what would become of her. Could there be anything left recognizable from dust?

Mami ignored her still. She probably did not realize she was destroying Kyoko in her haste of attempting to save her

“I almost forgot. There has been a continued increase in Wraith activity in Mitakihara as of late.” She clasped her hands together with an irrefusable smile. She really believed what she was doing was right. “Therefore, I think it will be best for us to walk the children to school in the morning. You understand, don’t you? It’s for their safety, Sakura-san.”

She expected Kyoko to nod and agree, didn’t she? She expected it because she still thought Kyoko was the same bright-eyed girl who had good in her, who naively believed she could save the world.

_ Stop it. _ Kyoko wanted to say.  _ Stop it before we both regret it. _

Instead she said, “…you’re asking for a lot all of the sudden.”

Something in her tone must have alerted Mami, but she misunderstood still. Her smile faded as her hands wrung together. Adn Kyoko saw the unsure, lonely girl she had met more than three years ago.

“I… I know.” She struggled with her words. “I know you still feel… uncomfortable, around me, Sakura-san.”

_ That’s not the point. _ Kyoko wanted to tell her, but she was too tired and numb.

A noose fell around her. It was pulled tighter bit by bit with every single word Mami said thereafter. There was nothing Kyoko could do to stop it.

“And… and it is a lot. Yes. But…” Her eyes flitted to Sayaka, looking for reassurance. “But Miki-san will come along.  It won’t be just the two of us. I know better than to push you. I know now.”

No, she didn’t. Kyoko struggled in vain to get herself away from the noose.

If Mami understood, she should realize how cruel she was. Because there was no reason for Kyoko to refuse. If Mami understood, she would have realized that everything they just asked was just a farce.

To make matters worse, Sayaka was oblivious of it as well.

“It’s fine by me.” She said, but Kyoko didn’t even need to look at her to see the hopeful glint in her eyes. She was speaking too eagerly. “I mean, I really like Nagisa-chan and Yuma-chan. So there’s no problem. It’ll be good to walk with them.” She paused before she added, pleadingly. “Really.”

But the more they tried to explain themselves, and the more they tried to convince Kyoko everything they asked for had a reason other than making sure she would not disappear - the tighter the noose got around her neck.

A part of her was comforted by their concern.

That part was the first to be strangled.

_ Why do you question the good things that happen to you? _ The familiar voice in her head asked.

Because - she gritted her teeth - because the last time she did, she ended up watching her whole world going up in flames. And now… now the mere thought of any of them getting hurt because she was too much of a coward to say no, threatened to crush her.

Nagisa, Mami, Yuma, and… and Sayaka.

She pushed herself away from the desk and stood up abruptly. Mami and Sayaka both tried to stand. They seemed to expect her reaction.

But they were so foolish. They didn’t understand why she acted this way.

“Enough!” Kyoko barked. “Enough with this bullshit.”

Mami looked at her, helpless. Sayaka seemed to want to say something, but Kyoko cut her off.

“I didn’t come here to make friends. I didn’t want to be here!” She sucked in a shaky breath, and it lodged in her throat like a brick. “I won’t stop Yuma from staying if she’s happy here, but that doesn’t mean I have to stay. It doesn’t mean I’m going to stay! I don’t need your pity. I’m  _ not  _ going to accept your pity!”

Mami tried to salvage the situation like Kyoko knew she would.

“That’s not what we-”

“I don’t fucking care what you call it.” She snapped. The same way her father snapped at her when he first came upon the knowledge of the miracle that saved his family from starvation. “Don’t you get it, Mami? I’m not like you. I’m nothing like you!”

Mami’s lips trembled. Kyoko could see the denial on her lips, but she wasn’t sure which part she was going to deny first.

Kyoko’s hands shook with the effort to control herself. Her voice dropped to a whisper.

“I couldn’t.”

She turned to run out of the apartment.

But Sayaka was prepared. The blue-haired girl had, during her outburst, stood up and moved between her and the door.

Their eyes met in another silent clash like they did two days ago. This time, Kyoko was the one who looked away first. She couldn’t bring herself to shove Sayaka out of the way no matter how much she wanted to.

Like a wounded beast backed to a corner, she turned to the other exit.

Mami guessed what she was going to do and tried to stop her. “Wait, Sakura-san-”

But she was too late. She didn’t realize her idea of saving others only pushed them faster towards destruction, just like three years ago.

Kyoko pulled one of the large window open with brute strength and leap off the balcony.

  
  


Later that night, Kyoko returned to the apartment.

After she cooled off a bit, she remembered what happened the previous night. And, unwilling to risk the same reaction from Sayaka, she ventured back before sunset.

The only thing that changed about the street was the lighting. Whereas the night before it had been shrouded in a dark velvet, now it was wrapped in a blanket of gold. Nothing else was different. No car. No people. No signs of anything else other than herself and the girl waiting for her return.

Kyoko found her way to the apartment as if she had lived there the whole life. She only paused once again at the door when she remembered she had no keys. She wondered whether she should have gone back to Mami’s first. They kind of didn’t really decide on whether Sayaka would come here to cook dinner. It was entirely possible the blue-haired girl had gone back to her own home.

Her hand reached for the knob tentatively, and turned.

To her surprise, it was not locked.

_ You shouldn’t be surprised. _ The voice in her head told her.  _ You knew she would be here. That’s why you always come back to this place. Isn’t it? _

Kyoko dismissed it and entered. The door clicked shut behind.

The rich aroma of pepper and pan-fried meat wafted down from the kitchen. Kyoko inhaled deeply. It reminded of the rare occasion when her mother would cook something un-western.

“Kyoko?”

Sayaka’s voice drifted to her over the scent of spices.

Kyoko entertained the idea of not answering and just slipping away. But the imagery of Sayaka sobbing against her chest chose that moment to pop into her mind.

_ Are you going to let her worry again? _

Kyoko shook her head, to chase out the unwelcomed voice, of course.

She didn’t follow through with the plan of running away.

“Yeah.” She mumbled, probably too quiet for Sayaka to hear in the kitchen, over all the sizzling of chopped up components and the roaring fan.

A moment later, Sayaka emerged from the kitchen. She wore a cerulean apron with a cherry blossom sewn at the corner.

For no reason whatsoever, Kyoko’s heartbeat accelerated.

“Dinner’s almost ready.” Sayaka told her, then pointed to the dining room with her spatula. “Go wait there. I’ll be right out.”

Before Kyoko could say anything, she hurried back to the kitchen.

Kyoko scratched her cheek and mumbled something even she herself did not quite understand. But she followed the instruction anyway, after she took off her boots and stacked them neatly by the door. It was kind of ridiculous, how much effort she was putting into not upsetting her.

The living room was… well, different. There were more furniture now. The most prominent example being the couch set that sat facing the window.

Kyoko stared at it for a few seconds, trying to comprehend the reason behind its existence.

She didn’t last for long. Her argument with Mami earlier that morning. Sayaka’s breakdown last night. Her own turmoil over the past few days…

With a sigh, she slumped down on the couch and drifted off to sleep quickly.

The dream was less violent this time around. She dreamt she was drifting in the deep sea again, but there was no trace of the candle monster or its soulless followers. Kyoko swam in the depth, cold and tired. She knew she was searching for something, reaching out to someone, but she could never find it or touch it.

The most frustrating part of it all? The object of her quest seemed always be just out of her reach. Countless times she felt her fingertips brushing against something soft and warm. None of the times she actually touched it.

When she woke up, there was a weight on her shoulder. She held still instead of backing away from the unfamiliar presence, and peered one eye open.

Sayaka was curled up against her, reading a recipe book. She looked… peaceful.

The expression struck Kyoko as bizarre and fantastic. It elicited something as tender but less intense as the flame the previous night, when she carried Sayaka to the sleeping bag. If she didn’t know better, she might venture to say it was because she was  _ here _ . If it wasn’t such a preposterous thought, Kyoko might have believed Sayaka was content because they were here together.

Sayaka shifted in her arms, which she must have arranged to wrap around herself when Kyoko was asleep. She noticed the stiffness and looked up.

“Ah.” Her lips curled up slightly as she teased. “I was wondering when you’d wake up. The food’s getting cold.”

“It smelled good.” Kyoko admitted. “What did you make anyway?”

“Nothing fancy. ” She took her hands off the recipe book. The pages folded together like mimosa leaves. “Are you hungry?”

Kyoko nodded. She slowly extracted herself from Sayaka and stood, stretching her limbs. Her arms, in particular, were numb from being used as pillows.

She took perhaps two steps before Sayaka called her again.

“Kyoko?”

She did not turn. She wasn’t sure she could keep her resolve if she did.

Then, Sayaka said gently, in a voice that held too many emotions.

“Welcome back.”

  
  



	10. Chapter 10

They went out again after dinner. This time, Kyoko didn’t even bother to try convince Sayaka not to come.

By the time they stopped for a break, the sky was jet black. Kyoko suggested they visit a convenience store for some snacks and drinks. The cashier shot them a strange look mixed with curiosity and concern, and it was then that Kyoko noticed the digital clock on the wall and realized how late it was. 

“You should call it a day.” She told Sayaka as they walked on the desolate sidewalk.

Sayaka opened her mouth to say something, probably to insist she could still go on. A small yawn escaped her mouth instead. She glanced at Kyoko sheepishly.

“Come on.” Kyoko sighed. “I’ll walk you back.”

“To where?”

“Your home. Idiot. Seriously, your parents are gonna notice.”

Sayaka looked away, rubbing her arms. “Maybe.”

“Why’d you want to stay in that apartment anyway? Weren’t you complaining the sleeping bags aren’t comfortable enough?”

“I was…” Sayaka turned her head further away. Her expression shaded by her long bangs. She seemed to shrink into her tank-top and mesh T-shirt. “…I meant it as you should get a proper bed.”

Kyoko remembered all the furniture that now occupied the apartment. It was beginning to look like a proper home. She frowned.

“Sleeping bag is good enough for me.”

“…of course it is.”

Sayaka was an open book, but sometimes Kyoko just couldn’t understand her.

“Well,” she tossed the last dango into her mouth and stretched. Her joints popped. “Anyway, you should go home.”

“And you?”

“I’m thinking about staying out a bit longer.” She was honest. The cool night took her mind off from everything else. “Feeling pretty good now.”

The opposition was on Sayaka’s lips, but she refrained and just hugged her elbows with a sort of nervous energy. “Things did go pretty well so far.”

“Which is surprising.”

“Hey!”

Kyoko shrugged. It was the truth.

No matter how experienced someone was at evading or killing Wraiths, there was nevertheless always a risk simply being in the vicinity of one.

Even for veteran like Kyoko and Mami, death was just one lapse of judgement, one tiny step too far or too close, or one fraction of an instant moving too fast or too slow, away.

It was astounding how neither of them had sustained any serious injury yet. 

Okay, and kind of relieving.

“So gotta ride the wave… or whatever that expression was. You know what I mean?”

Sayaka nodded, but she still did not relax. “I know. But… why not go back together? It’s kinda late. You should get some sleep. We’re gonna walk Yuma-chan and Nagisa-chan to school tomorrow, remember?”

First of all, she never actually agreed to that.

“Eh, I don’t need a lot of sleep.” She lied.

Sayaka gave her a look. “…I find that hard to believe.”

“Fine, fine. You caught me. I hate waking up early.” Kyoko threw her hands up in fake surrender. “But so what? I can always catch up on the sleep later in the day.”

“…don’t forget you also need to come meet us after school.”

Okay, now she was just assuming stuff. That was supposed to be a one-time deal.

“Look, just-” She scratched the back of her head, resisting the temptation to snap. “Just give me the key to the apartment, and let me walk you home.”

Sayaka blinked at the open palm Kyoko was holding up, then to her impatient face. A peculiar expression overcame her, like she was trying not to laugh.

“Why would you need it?”

“Unless you want me to sleep on the street, which I can. Or if you’d rather I bust the lock, which I also can.”

Oh wait, she can also pick the lock or use magic to open the door. But she usually didn’t care enough to do either. Kicking down doors was way easier.

“No! I mean, why would you need it with me around?”

Kyoko rolled her eyes. “Really? It’s not like you’re living there now. And what about when you’re busy with something else? Like school or you own life?”

Sayaka mumbled something.

“What’s that?”

“No-nothing! I just don’t have much else going on. You can always count on me to be about.”

Kyoko squinted.

"You do realize it's considered normal, and even sensible to not trust people you just met, right?”

“What?”

“As in, I won't get offended if you don't want to give me the key. I'd just rather you be honest about it.”

Sayaka blinked a few more times before she began shaking her head in mortification.

“But I do! Trust you! I mean.”

Probably too much. Kyoko regarded her with wry amusement. She hadn't ask about Kyoko’s life, past or recent. She didn't pry into her business. But she treated her like they were lifelong friends.

She acted like she  _ knew _ Kyoko. And not just as Mami’s former pupil. Or as the last surviving member of the Sakura family. Not even as Sakura Kyoko the fiercely territorial Puella Magi. Sayaka treated like she actually understood Kyoko. Like she saw a side of Kyoko hidden from everyone else.

That sort of pissed Kyoko off, because even she herself sometimes didn’t quite understand herself.

“What?” She smirked humorlessly. “Are you worried I’ll run away again?”

Sayaka did not rise to the bait. She turned fully to Kyoko, halting both of them, and looked squarely into her eyes.

“No.” All bashfulness vanished from Sayaka’s tone and expression. She didn’t look so naive anymore. There were weights behind her words. A determination fueled by regret. “No, and even if you do, I’ll find you and drag you back. I’ll always find you.”

It wasn’t too difficult to believe. She  _ had _ been kind of pestering Kyoko.

Kyoko was going to make a joke here. Say something like ‘Jeez, what are you? An overly-attached girlfriend?’ But something else about what Sayaka said caught her attention.

“Well, that didn’t answer my question. Why won’t you give me the key then?”

The timidity returned to Sayaka’s face at once. She combed her hair and fidgeted a bit.

“Be-because I want to be there when you come back.” She blurted out in a whisper, which grew quieter and quieter with each word. “Because I want to tell you ‘welcome back.’”

Kyoko frowned. This was so cheesy she could make a pizza out of it.

“I said I don’t want-”

“Pity?” Sayaka gathered enough courage to look at her again. Her gaze piercing, imploring. “Then you don’t need to worry. This isn't pity. This is for me. I’m sick and tired of a home without family. Of being ignored. Of all my efforts leading to nothing. I’m doing this because  _ I _ need it.”

Kyoko could empathize with that. After her father found out about the contract, home stopped being a place of comfort and safety. Everyday she dreaded returning to the cabin behind their church. Everyday she lingered a little longer outside.

And after her family’s death, it was nothing short of agonizing to walk in the empty church and empty house. But she did it anyway because it was the only place left that still reminded her of who she used to be. Of the kind of person she had always wanted to be. It was similar to how these past few days-

Hold on there.

As if someone had pulled aside the curtain, Kyoko saw plainly the source of her frustration.

She wanted a better life. She wanted to be worthy of the kindness and affection the other girls so liberally given her. She actually  _ wanted  _ to stay here.

She was frustrated because she had yet figured out what to do with herself. Because she felt the desire to lead a more honest life despite all the hardship along the road. It was strangely refreshing. She wanted to give life another try, even though there was no reason to believe there would be a happy ending.

And now, it was like she finally found that rope that would stop her from her downward spiral.

“Stay with me then.” She blurted out.

Kyoko felt more surprised than Sayaka looked. She berated herself for making such suggestion knowing Sayaka had an actual home - however empty - to go back to. She opened her mouth to tell Sayaka she didn’t mean it.

Her mouth parted loosely, uselessly. Nothing came out.

Because, under the moonlight, there it was. The most breathtaking smile she had ever seen.

Oh.

_ Oh _ .

 


	11. Chapter 11

“Kyoko, wake up! We’re gonna be late.”

Kyoko grumbled something inappropriate. The bed was way so comfortable, it would be a crime to abandon it so suddenly.

Where was she? Oh, there was a strawberry sundae the size of an elephant…

“Kyo-ko!” Sayaka’s voice was a little closer now. “Don’t make me come out there.”

Kyoko sighed. With that incessant human alarm clock, dream of humongous strawberry sundae would have to wait. She rolled herself ungracefully off the side, landing on the floor with a loud thud. The pain helped her clearing her groggy mind.

She sat up from the floor and yawned loudly, before using the bed as support to climb to her feet.

Oh, right. There was a bed now.

Her muscles were still a little sore from her labor the previous day. After the hunt yesterday, Sayaka pulled her back to her home and made her carry the spare bed (her words, but Kyoko had her doubts. It looked way too new) all the way back to the apartment.

Needless to say, they took the roofs. A skinny girl like Kyoko really shouldn’t have the strength to carry such heavy furniture.

Sayaka joked about riding on the bed while Kyoko carried it. It was just a quip, of course, but somehow it involved into a dare and, well, that was exactly what happened.

She would have to remember to pay Sayaka back for that prank later. Kyoko reminded herself as she stumbled to the bathroom.

When she exited, Sayaka was laying out a full table of traditional breakfast. Steamed rice, Miso soup, grilled fish, and some pickled vegetables. Kyoko’s plan for vengeance wilted temporarily as she sniffed the air.

“…didn’t you say we’re gonna be late?”

She sat down by the table nonetheless.

“Well, yeah.” Sayaka handed her one bowl of rice and a pair of chopstick. “Breakfast usually takes about half an hour, right?”

She scanned the dishes quickly, contemplating which one she should tackle first. “For you, maybe. I can finish all these in ten minutes.”

Sayaka pouted. “…you shouldn’t eat so fast. You might choke.”

Kyoko shrugged, and decided to go for the Miso soup first.

Sayaka was still mumbling, but it wasn’t exactly aimed at Kyoko. “… and taste my cooking properly. You idiot…”

The soup went down the wrong pipe.

 

* * *

 

They finished before the half hour mark anyway and even managed to arrive at Mami’s with a few minutes to spare. The five of them set off into a bright, hot morning.

Yuma and Nagisa bounced around Kyoko just like the previous morning, when she first joined. They were even more excited today, dragging her this way and that, squealing as Kyoko pretended to chase them around. When they reached Mitakihara Elementary, both children were coated in a light layer of sweat.

“Mou…” Mami caught Nagisa and dabbed her handkerchief on her forehead and cheeks. “You are going to catch a cold with the wind.”

Seeing this, Kyoko exchanged a glance with Yuma before she grinned and pinned the girl in her arms. Yuma tried to wiggle out of her control but failed.

“Nooooo. I want Mami-neechan to do it.” Yuma whined against a faceful of Kyoko’s jacket sleeves.

“Get back here. Mami’s busy.”

When she was done, Yuma stumbled out of her grip to Mami’s side, nose slightly pink. Kyoko laughed as Yuma tattled on her, no doubt exaggerating the misdeed ten-fold. She stood up and turned around. Her job was done now, she was eager for a fight and maybe some snacks.

She stopped when she saw Sayaka, with her own handkerchief out, staring at her.

“Should’ve told me you got one before I started wiping Yuma down.” She joked.

Sayaka was not amused. She stuffed her handkerchief back to her bag and looked away.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

Kyoko scratched her head. “Alright, fine. Hey, I want to talk to you about something.”

Sayaka glanced towards Mami, who was still preoccupied with Nagisa and Yuma. “Is it something Mami-san should know?” The blonde was now adjusting the ribbons on Nagisa’s dress.

“Doesn’t really matter to me.” Kyoko shrugged, but in truth, her palms were getting a little slippery. “I was just thinking- I should take a trip back to Kazamino.”

Sayaka tensed, but kept her voice leveled and casual. “For?”

“Oh, nothing serious… just thought I should clean up the place. Get Yuma’s stuff. Ya’know.”

Sayaka nodded. Her reaction earlier showed she definitely thought it was a matter of great importance. Kyoko never asked her why she had come to the church, but now she suspected it was no coincidence. She wasn’t quite sure whether she should feel comforted or alarmed at the possibility Sayaka knew about her past.

“There’s not that much to pick up.” Her lips felt a bit dry. “I’ll be back by the morning.”

“You’re going today?”

“Yeah. Don’t see why not.”

Sayaka stood a bit closer. She grabbed Kyoko’s jacket by the elbows. “Just… just wait until after school today, okay? I’ll come with you.”

“Huh?” Although Kyoko wasn’t trying to hide her past from Sayaka - she saw no point, especially if Mami had already told her about it - but she still didn’t feel comfortable actively bringing it up. It had been almost four years, but the wound was still bleeding. She’d really rather she did it alone. “Hey, I said I’ll be back by tomorrow morning.”

“I know. It’s just…” Sayaka chewed her lower lip. “I want to go. Please?”

Kyoko gauged her for a moment, before she finally relented. “Fine.”

What did she get herself into?

 

* * *

 

They informed Mami - or Sayaka did, anyway. Mami glanced at Kyoko thoughtfully for a long while, before she said lightly, “I see.”

That evening, after shower and an early dinner, they all met at the bus station.

Yuma did not ask whether she could follow along. Although Kyoko avoided going into details about her past, she probably pieced together the story on her own. She was an observant child like that. So instead, she kept reminding Kyoko that they made plans to go to the park on Sunday.

Kyoko reassured her the best she could. A corner of her mind wondered whether Mami had coached Yuma on saying such things.

The bus wouldn’t be there for another forty-five minutes. Kyoko slumped against one of the plastic bench and chewed on a bag of pocky. Sayaka and Mami were checking the map and discussing something, probably when they could come back, how often Sayaka should text Mami to report their progress, et cetera et cetera.

“Psssst.”

Kyoko sat up straight. She looked around in search of the voice.

“Kyoko, Kyoko!” Nagisa whispered loudly from behind a bulletin board.

Kyoko raised a brow. She glanced back to the rest of their group. Sayaka and Mami were still deeply involved in their discussion. Yuma was listening in intently, one hand hanging onto Mami’s sleeve. Good, at least Yuma wouldn’t be wandering off.

She stood up and approached Nagisa. “What’s up?”

“You got five hundred yen?”

Kyoko checked her pocket. “Uh-huh. Why?”

“Come with me.” And she bounded off.

Kyoko didn’t see any other option. She followed as quickly as she could.

Nagisa brought them to a convenience store just around the corner. When Kyoko walked in, she already had a plastic box in her hand.

“Why do I get a feeling you shouldn’t be getting that?” She put her arms on her hip and pointed to the cheesecake with her chin. “Won’t Mami be mad if she sees?”

“Well, then we’ll just have to make sure she doesn’t!” Nagisa chirped.

Kyoko shook her head and sighed, but she paid for the treat with what little change she had anyway. She gave the cashier a fierce scowl when he took her money.

They left the convenience store and sat on the bench just outside. Nagisa popped the lid off happily and began devouring the cake in earnest. When she was about halfway through, she remembered who gifted it to her and scooped a spoonful of cake, offering it up to Kyoko.

Kyoko smiled and accepted. The cake was a little stiff, and the flavor faded almost as soon as it touched her tongue. But still, it was good.

“So.” She said as Nagisa finished the rest of the cake. “You _really_ like cheesecake, huh?”

Nagisa nodded. “I used to eat it with mom.”

She had a feeling it wasn’t a story with happy ending. So she said nothing else and let the topic drop.

But Nagisa didn’t let the topic drop. She continued.

“See, my mom was very sick. As long as I can remember she’s always been in the hospital. Every year she got weaker. Paler. There was nothing they could do.”

“Nagisa.” Kyoko interrupted. “You don’t have to tell me.”

“But I want to.” Nagisa smiled. There was both fondness and sadness. “Will you listen to my story?”

Kyoko gave her silent approval.

Nagisa put down her fork. There was still one bite left.

“Mom used to buy cheesecakes from the shop in front of the train station. When she could still walk around, I mean. Have you ever been there?”

Kyoko hesitated a little before she nodded. It was a small store. Their other desserts were mediocre at best, but the cheesecake was pretty good. When she was still Mami’s pupil, she had visited the store a couple times.

“One day, mom pulled me close and told me she didn’t have much time left. She was crying more than I’ve ever seen. It made me feel terrible because I couldn’t stop her crying. Back then, all I could think about was getting that cheesecake for mom. All I could think about was how she smiled when we ate it together.”

Nagisa told the story calmly. Like the events took place decades ago. Like she was not a ten-year-old child.

“When I got there, there was a sign on the door. There was nothing else, inside or outside. No chairs or tables or fridges where they kept the cake. You see, they got hit hard by the recession. The shop closed two weeks ago.

“I returned empty-handed. I didn’t know what to do. I sat on one of the benches outside the hospital, at the back where people usually don’t go, and cried.

“I don’t know how long I was out there. When I realized, someone had sat down next to me.”

“Mami.” Kyoko said softly.

Nagisa nodded, tears swirling in her eyes. “I asked her if she could make me a cheesecake.”

It was not difficult to imagine what Mami’s response was.

“Mom passed away the next day.” Nagisa continued with some difficulty. “I don’t have any other relatives. In theory, I should’ve been sent off to foster system. But… here I am.”

Kyoko remembered her conversation with Mami a few days ago, on the rooftop. She wondered whether Nagisa started using that phrase because of Mami, or Mami because of Nagisa.

“Why are you telling me this?” She asked quietly, anxious for Nagisa to not misunderstand her question as a reprimand.

“Because… because Mami gave me hope.” Nagisa took a deep breath. “I know the rules, Kyoko. Hope and despair must be balanced. That’s how the world works now. But… nobody should grieve by themselves. Mami gave me hope, so don’t I have the right to help her shoulder her despair?”

Maybe. Maybe not.

In all honesty, none of them deserved what happened to them. By all rights they should all live as carefree children, surrounded by loving families and friends, worrying only about eating too much sweets and handing in homework on time.

“I know it’s not my place to say anything.” Nagisa bit her lower lip, fidgeting a little. “But Mami… Mami is really sad. No, no. She didn’t tell me to say this. She didn’t even tell me she’s sad. But I care about Mami, and I don’t want to see her sad. Mami cares a lot about you, Kyoko.”

She knew that. She had always known that.

“Mami was so… _hopeful_ , when you came. So excited.”

It didn’t surprise her, but it did make her heart tinge with guilt. “Nagisa…”

Nagisa looked like she was about to cry, but she held it back. For Mami. She looked up to Kyoko, brave as the princesses in fairy tales. Kyoko looked back, helpless, because she knew this world would betray this little child as well.

“She’s been so lonely.” Nagisa’s voice hitched a little. “I try. But just me is not enough. She still regrets her wish.” Her innocent little face contorted. In pain. Like she felt it exactly as how Mami felt it. “Sometimes I hear her say in her dream, ‘I want my whole family to be happy’. And she tries to hide her crying. But I know Mami. She wants her family to be happy. _All_ of her family.

“And Kyoko, regardless of what you think, you are still part of her family. _Our_ family.”

Kyoko stared down at her lap, ashamed. None of this was news to her. She had always known.

She had always known… yet she still abandoned her.

“Please, Kyoko. I’m not asking you to accept Mami right away. But please, please,” her voice cracked. “ _Please_ don’t hate her. I don’t want Mami to disappear.”

Kyoko stood from the bench.

She was such a good kid. Mami taught her well.

“Nagisa.”

She kneeled in front of the girl and put a hand on her head. As it touched her hair, Kyoko couldn’t help but wonder. If Momo was still alive, she could surely become friends with Nagisa and Yuma easily. They were all good kids. Kind, lively, innocent.

Failing one such child was already one too many in a lifetime.

“Nagisa,” she began as assuredly as she could. “I’m not a good person, and I’ve done a lot of wrongs. But I promise you this - I won’t let Mami disappear. As long as I draw breath, I won’t allow it to happen.”

Nagisa nodded. Although her lips were still quivering, she stubbornly wrapped her arms around Kyoko’s wrist.

“I know. But… Kyoko has to stay alive too. Otherwise it’ll be meaningless.”

She chuckled. “Hey, I’m pretty strong. Probably won’t lose to Mami if we ever get into a fight.”

Nagisa brushed aside the attempt to lighten the mood. The gleam in her eyes made her look a lot older than her age.

“I know you are strong. But if something happen to you, everyone will be sad.” She sighed. “Not only me and Yuma-chan. Mami will too. And Sayaka won’t be able to take it. She’s…” She trailed off at that.

Kyoko froze. She had a feeling she knew what Nagisa was about to say, but she didn’t know if she could accept that.

Nagisa shook her head. “Never mind. It’s not my place to say. Let’s go back, Kyoko. They must be waiting.”

Kyoko watched her for another moment. Nagisa was evidently tired from the emotional dialogues. She couldn’t press her any further, although there were many questions she wanted answers to. ‘How’ or ‘why’ was probably on top of the list.

So instead she pointed to the last bite of cheesecake.

“You gonna finish that?”

Nagisa blinked down at her treat, like she had completely forgotten about it. She shoved the last piece into her mouth and grinned. The smile regained the innocence and mischief more befitting for her age.

“Can’t waste food!” Nagisa said cheerfully as she chewed.

Kyoko took her hand and smiled.

“Yeah.”

 

* * *

 

Their absence was pointedly noted by the others. When they returned, Mami was pacing up and down the platform worriedly. When she spotted the duo, she all but sprang to Nagisa’s side.

From her relief, Kyoko could tell Mami treasured Nagisa just as much. And to her surprise, she found herself a little wistful at the sight.

She shook it out of her head. Now was not the time to brood over their complicated past.

Kyoko walked up besides the pair and, as a gesture of goodwill, said to Mami. “Sorry about worrying you. I was a bit thirsty and took Nagisa to the convenience store.”

Mami was stunned, but visibly overjoyed at being spoken to. She recovered herself quickly and gracefully exempted her from any guilt.

“Why didn’t you two bring me along?” Yuma pouted and punched Kyoko on the forearm.

So Kyoko fished out her last box of Pocky and handed it to her.

When she looked up, her eyes met Sayaka’s. The blue-haired girl had a serene smile on her face. Kyoko looked away quickly, trying to calm her speeding heart.

Not long after, their bus arrived. She said a brief goodbye to Mami and the children, promising again and again to Yuma that she would definitely return before Sunday morning so they could go to the park. They got on the bus. But she did not move even when the engine roared to life. She kept standing there until the trio became a distant spot on the horizon.

All the while, Sayaka stood beside her, keeping her company quietly

They climbed to the top of the double-decker after a few more awkward moments. It was empty up there. Kyoko picked the seats at the very back row, and Sayaka followed.

Once they were properly settled in for the ride, Sayaka finally spoke up.

“Did something happen at the convenience store?”

Kyoko peered at her from the corner of her eyes. She remembered Nagisa’s unfinished sentence.

“I bought her a cheesecake.”

It was a clumsy evasion, but Sayaka didn’t press her for an answer. “I’ll keep it a secret from Mami-san.” She chuckled. “Otherwise she’d tear your ears out.”

Kyoko looked away.

After a moment, she felt something soft and warm covering her hand. She didn’t pull away, just pretended she did not notice it.

But it felt so nice.

 


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I wrote this when I had two pots of coffee and 24-hour of awake time. What the hell was I even writing.

 

In retrospect, it was probably a horrible idea.

“…you okay?”

Kyoko swallowed thickly. Something lodged in her throat and she couldn’t get it to move.

“Yeah, peachy.”

“You don’t really look the part.”

“Then why the fuck are you asking?”

Coming home is a strange thing. Everything smelled the same, looked the same, sounded the same, maybe even felt the same, but there was something subtly different about the whole universe. Even if the reality was the exact replica of the snapshot in memory, there was an undeniable disparity between the two. As if everything was shifted to the left by two inches.

And nothing was right anymore.

“Could you…” She tried to swallow the object. Maybe it was a stone. Or bone. It wouldn’t budge. “Could you wait outside?”

“Why?”

It was such an innocent and cruel question. She didn’t know how to answer, so she didn’t. The door was half-opened, half-shut, hanging off the hinge. She wished she could kick it down.

“Forget it.”

Sayaka followed her inside. She was quiet, as if the church was still in service and she did not want to desecrate the embassy of God. Or she might just be intimidated by all the broken pieces of wood and burn marks.

Kyoko couldn’t decide which one she preferred. Or which one she herself felt.

Despite the whole place being quite open to airflow (courtesy to all the broken windows), it was stifling. And hot. Almost unbearably so. Everything was a challenge to her resolve. Or everything was a warning why she shouldn’t linger, shouldn’t care.

The steps to the altar began to show signs of rot. When she pictured the cross came crashing down and shattering into a million pieces, the imagery somehow consoled her. But its half-collapsed state as her eyes currently observed distressed her. She tried to shove both images out of her mind and failed miserably.

She found the hatch connecting to the basement, which preserved none of the functionality of a hatch anymore and was half melted with the floorboard. Out of a sudden and intense rage she struck it with her magic and blew a hole through the wreckage. The thunder-like noise echoed through the forest.

Sayaka did not cover her ears, but she jolted a little. Kyoko noticed it and halted her steps.

“Maybe you should wait outside.”

“Only if you want me to.”

Kyoko couldn’t speak the simple word no matter how many times her heart screamed. It was as if she had forgotten how to pronounce it. Then she realized that was because there were two contradictory words at the tip of her tongue.

She swallowed them all back and proceeded down the steps.

The basement was darker than she expected. She found her way through pure muscle memory and picked up everything she came into contact with. The small bundle of cloth they used as substitute to pillow. The plastic bags full of perishables. She left the wrapping papers, but not before kicking them into a corner and out of her sight.

She could feel Sayaka’s gaze like an arrow on her back. If she looked she would be lost, if she didn’t she would be damned. What difference would it make? So she didn’t even try.

But even if she didn’t, the nature of a binary problem dictated that the state could only be one or another. When Kyoko looked up from gathering her meager belongings, she saw the silhouette of her companion standing motionless by the side. Whether the expression on her face was mournful or pity was anyone’s guess.

She spent more time than strictly necessary tidying up the place. It made absolutely no sense considering how much she did not want to be there. But even more pressing was her desire to be alone with her muddled thoughts, the candid craving of reveling in the suffocation of isolation.

But Sayaka stayed. Never once did she speak, or move unless she was certain she would not be in the way.

She might have meant well, but the truth of the matter was that at that moment, Kyoko needed an enemy more than she needed a friend.

When she finally ran out of things to do, it was already night. Kyoko carried three bags’ worth of relics from her past and nothing she was looking for. Her boots trudged towards the door like she was walking in a swamp.

“Kyoko.”

Suddenly, Sayaka broke the silence. Kyoko whipped her head around before she could stop herself. Everything that happened next took the same amount of time as lightning striking down from heaven.

First, there was a nauseating deja vu that flashed through as a whirlwind of colors.

Second, she was gripping Sayaka by the collar and holding her high in the air. Her brain briefly registered that Sayaka was gasping painfully but put up no resistance except for the occasional twitch.

Third, she was dropping Sayaka to the floor as an apple hit the ground.

And last, she realized even that was a deja vu and she was still choking the blue-haired girl. She let go to clutch her pounding head and collapsed.

Sayaka staggered to her side and held her down, held her close. She whispered sweet nothing, her voice still hoarse from nearly being strangled. “It’s okay. It’s okay now.”

But her words couldn’t reach Kyoko. She was trembling like a leaf. Three words replayed again and again from her mouth like a broken record.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry…”

She didn’t even know who she was apologizing to.

Sayaka sighed, rubbing circle on her back. “I had that coming. I knew you’d react like that. Please don’t blame yourself - it was my fault.”

It took Kyoko a good minute before she completely comprehended what was said.

“You… what?” She became frozen with dread. “What did you do? What did you know? How?”

She was overreacting. She knew that. Anyone with half a brain, heard about the murder-suicide at the Sakura church, and knew about Puella Magi could put two and two together. If she could think logically, she would remember she had suspected Sayaka knew from the beginning.

Unfortunately logic had decided to take a short vacation. And it left without prior notice. How rude.

“Not from Mami-san.” Sayaka paused, trying to hold onto the shorter girl who was struggling like a bewildered beast. She wrapped her arms tighter like she was trying to anchor her. “Kyoko, please.”

“No!” Kyoko bellowed. Neither her voice nor her limbs were in her control. She imagined this must be what seizure felt like. “What’s going on? What’s happening to me?”

“Just… just calm down.”

“Who are you?”

Sayaka tensed at that question. She did not let go, but she buried her face at the crook of Kyoko’s neck, seeking strength.

Eventually Kyoko quieted down. Logic still did not return. Instead her calmness drew from a different source, a void that she had only caught a glimpse of a thousand years ago.

“Who are you?” Her voice was so frail it sickened her. “Tell me.”

Sayaka refused to relent her grip. Kyoko wasn’t sure if the anchor was keeping her from insanity or dragging her deeper into it. She gave up, and gave herself to the unthinking numbness.

Finally, Sayaka spoke again. When she did, it was so quiet Kyoko thought she might have imagined it.

“Do you… do you believe in destiny?”

Something about that term ignited a spark inside her. There was no telling whether the flame would grow into an all-consuming inferno or a life-saving campfire.

“No.” She croaked. “We make our own choices, and we deal with the consequences of our choice. If we don’t have that free will, if we never had a different option… then what’s the point?”

In a way she was answering a different question. One that had never been asked by either of them. It troubled her because the meaning behind what she said depended solely on the question. And that was a greater mystery than the meaning itself.

“That’s…” Sayaka swallowed. She knew the question. She knew it and she chose to withheld it from Kyoko. “…that’s not what I meant.” She murmured as she snuggled closer. “I meant about a different world.”

Her avoidance enraged Kyoko, but her mere presence alleviated all the pain. She felt a little more like herself with each moment trapped by her.

“Like what? Heaven and Hell?”

“No. Like past life, or alternative universe. Things are similar but not the same.”

She took a deep breath. There was no air. But she could think again.

“Maybe.” Her voice came out stronger than she expected. “Why? And get off. You’re strangling me.”

Sayaka pulled away a little with great reluctance.

“It’s hard to explain.” She murmured. “You might think I’m crazy. Maybe I am. But… I’ve always been looking for you. Kind of. Have you ever felt it? A sense of familiarity. You see things in your memory that you’ve never saw before. Things you shouldn’t know but you somehow just know?”

The first part of herself that returned with full force was, unfortunately, her sarcastic and cynical self.

“Are you saying you just somehow _know_ all about me?”

“Not everything.” Sayaka hesitated. She looked into Kyoko’s eyes but couldn’t hold her gaze for long. “There are a lot I _don’t_ know. But I want to. I don’t know how to explain it, but you are the person I’ve been searching for.”

She wasn’t sure who she was angry at or why.

“You are mistaken.” A stranger said through her, voice cold and cruel. She pulled Kyoko away from her haven and forced her up, before marching her to the door. “I’m not the person you’re looking for.”

“Maybe.” Sayaka said quietly behind her, voice heavy with something Kyoko was afraid to understand. “But I do want to know you.”

Somehow, her fingers still grasped the back of her jacket.

 

* * *

 

It would not leave her alone.

Kyoko knew she must not stay. She had to get away and run like the coward she had always been. The only problem was that she did not know from what she was running away from and to where she was supposed to go.

The most rational - assuming she still had any sanity left - decision was to leave Kazamino. It made sense in her head. This was where all the bad things happened. It might be as simple as a case of running away from misfortune. This whole pointless angst might just be about shaking off a relentless enemy right on her heels.

Whatever the case, Sayaka complied with her desire without protest. Kyoko felt awful for the way she treated her back at the church, but she could not begin to apologize. Whenever she tried her thoughts became all tangled up.

It was like a maze without beginning or end. And she was searching for a way out without knowing where she even was.

When they arrived at the bus station, it was only to find out they had missed the last bus going to Mitakihara that day. The next one would not arrive for another good four hours.

“Well,” Sayaka patted her shoulder sympathetically. She caught what she was doing and hastily withdrew her hand. “We can just walk.”

Kyoko wanted to reach out and grab her, then… then… she didn’t know.

“It’ll take two hours at least.” She warned.

Sayaka shrugged and led them out of the bus station like she was fine with the long march. Kyoko trailed behind guiltily like a lost puppy on the leash.

The highway connecting the cities was like a long, twisting black serpent with luminescent scales. It laid dormant. They kept their footsteps light and careful as if afraid to rouse it from its slumber.

Every now and then, a car would lumber down the street with two blinding headlights. They would fall shortly on the two girls before shooting away, as the vehicles billowed past without even a hint of slowing.

“How heartless.” Sayaka quipped after another car thundered past. “Ignoring two beautiful young women in need of assistance.”

Kyoko rolled her eyes. The fresh night air and miles of vastness helped her feel more like herself again. “You kidding? They’d be stupid to stop their car.”

“Chivalry ain’t dead, you know.”

“Yeah, yeah. Robbery is quite alive too.” Kyoko deadpanned. “Look, a lot of the times a wandering girl on the street is accompanied by a group of delinquents hiding in the bushes. You never watched the news?”

“But it isn’t the case all the time.”

“It isn't. Maybe not even half, or a quarter of the times.” Kyoko stuck her hands in the pocket, searched for a bit, and remembered she had given her last box of Pocky to Nagisa. “But if there’s a chance - not even a good chance, just some chance - that it’s a trap, most people won’t willingly risk their own safety, or their family’s.” She held up a hand when Sayaka tried to protest. “Besides, it’s already pretty fishy. Normal girls don't wander alone on the street late at night.”

As soon as she said that, she remembered Sayaka _was supposed to_ be normal.

It wasn’t fair. She should have been kept ignorant of the whole Puella Magi business. How did she even know, anyway? Was she friend with Mami? Did she stumble across one of her fight?

She remembered something else, something she was only made aware of that afternoon.

_I’ve always been looking for you. Kind of._

She dismissed it off the hand back then, but if she was honest, she kind of understand what Sayaka was talking about. There were a lot of things she did over the past week that seemed completely out of her character.

How did she grow close to Sayaka in such a short time? Why did she trust her in the first place? And that apartment…

Before she could ponder further, Sayaka gave a tiny yelp. Kyoko stopped.

“What’s wrong?”

“No-nothing.” Sayaka stumbled a little and shuffled. But as she did, she failed to hide a wince.

Kyoko frowned. She approached Sayaka and dragged her to the traffic barrier on the roadside.

“Kyo-Kyoko, wait.”

“Just shut up and keep still.”

She dumped Sayaka unceremoniously on the guardrail and kneeled in front of her. Sayaka’s knees shook a little as she took off one of her sandal.

She could see the red even in the dim light. Little patches of red spread on her heels, sole, and even the bridge.

“…are those new shoes?”

But she already knew the answer. In fact, now she paid attention, she realized Sayaka dressed _nicely_. She wore a frilly white sundress that ended just above her knees, and a navy blue jacket that was way too warm for the weather. The sandal was brand new, dirtied only by the sut from all the roads the walked.

“Why didn’t you say something?”

It was her fault. She should have noticed. Of course Sayaka wouldn’t say anything. She was the kind of idiot to hold her own pain in.

Kyoko thought she kept her voice collected, but Sayaka must have seen her anger somehow. The girl rested a hand on her shoulder. Kyoko raised her head slowly, as if unaware of her own action.

Sayaka was smiling at her. “You’re frowning again.” She moved her hand from Kyoko’s shoulder to brush way her bangs. “Don’t blame yourself. I should have picked something more comfy.”

Kyoko turned on her knees so her back was facing Sayaka.

“Get on.”

“H-huh?!”

“I said ‘get on’.” Kyoko glared over her shoulder. “Or I’ll leave you by the roadside and let you try to hitch a ride back to Mitakihara.”

Sayaka stuttered for a few more seconds before she gave up trying to dissuade Kyoko. She climbed onto slowly, carefully, and perhaps a bit shyly.

Kyoko waited, feeling the body shifting tentatively on her back, awkwardly looking for balance. Her passenger was weighty and warm and familiar. She tasted strawberry and ocean breeze.

“Am I heavy?”

All things worth to be carried was heavy.  All things that bestowed happiness caused sorrow.

“Yeah.” She picked up the sandals and handed them to Sayaka. She tested her balance before she stood up. “But that’s just Mami’s cakes.”

She began to walk.

Neither said a word for a long while. Kyoko focused mostly on where her steps landed as she relished the burden she was suffering. Sayak was quiet too, but Kyoko could hear her steady breathing against her ear. She was getting warmer too.

Maybe it was the jacket. Kyoko considered asking Sayaka to take it off, but ultimately decided against it. The night can be chilly.

Besides, she thrived on heat.

All things worth to be carried was heavy.  All things that bestowed happiness caused sorrow. If one pursued warmth, inevitably there was a chance to be scorched.

As they turned along the crooked path, Sayaka let out a small sigh.

“Ah.” She pointed.

Kyoko looked up from the road, following her finger, to the night sky. Before them, the full moon hung low and large on the horizon. If she stretched out far enough, would she be able to touch it? Would she able to find what hold it in her hands and keep it by her side?

She halted as they both admired the moon. Another deja vu took hold of her mind. This one less violent than the one she had seen in the church.

She failed to see clearly any of the images. Only, when she came to herself again, she had a faint impression that she had, long ago, walked with a friend on this very same road, towards the same gentle sphere of light.

Did they find what they were looking for?

Kyoko wished she could remember. Not knowing the answer saddened her. It was like a hole in her heart she couldn’t find.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Sayaka sighed against her ears. She seemed to sink a little into Kyoko.

“Yeah.” Kyoko let the wistfulness show in her voice. “Hey, Sayaka?”

With a start, she realized this was the first time she actually called Sayaka by name.

“Hmm?”

She couldn’t remember what she was going to ask. All she could do was utter her name again.

“Sayaka.”

A storm of emotion raged in her mind. Joy, grief, relief, regret, shame, nostalgia, fear… and more. So much more.

She began shaking a little, repeating her name again. “Sayaka.”

Sayaka seemed to understand. She laid her forehead against her shoulder and whispered softly. “I’m here.”

And it was true. Kyoko could feel Sayaka’s body pressing firmly against her back. She could feel Sayaka’s heartbeat pulsing steadily, full of life. It brought her indescribable peace.

“Sayaka.” She never realized simply calling someone’s name could have such effect on her. It was absurd. But a part of her felt this was the most natural thing in the world. Like some law of the universe. She had just discovered it, but it had always been there.

She wasn’t completely ready for it, but now that she held the name, felt the weight, touched the warmth, she could no longer let go.

“Kyoko,” Sayaka’s arms wrapped around her, and held on as tightly as she did. “I’m right here.”

 

* * *

 

They arrived back at the apartment in the wee hours between night and morning.

Sayaka had fallen asleep on Kyoko’s back some time ago, her hands still gripping firmly onto the redhead’s jacket. Kyoko laid her down on the bed and settled next to her, allowing their connection with a soft smile.

But for the rest of the night, sleep eluded her. She sat on the bed, one hand caressing Sayaka’s hair as she dreamt her sweet dream, the other pillowing her chin.

She stared out to the street, watching the moon gradually faded with growing dawn, reminiscing on a past she never had.

 

**[End of Part 1]**

 


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have your insulin shot handy.

**[Part 2]**

 

Wind sent leaves swaying far off in the distance. The glory of dawn sparkled on the dancing forest, twinkling like morning stars. The sky was clear in a smooth washed-out blue, fading gradually to white on the horizon.

She was sitting on the top of the observation tower. Not at the deck but on the roof overlooking the city.

It was rare for her to risk such stunt on the off chance someone might stumble upon the girl high above the world, whom for all intents and purposes looked like she might leap off the edge. She was supposed to be just a normal fifteen-year-old, after all.

“Beware of happiness.”

She did not so much as blink at the sudden presence.

“Aren’t you a ball of sunshine and positive energy this morning.”

“And you are unusually optimistic.”

“Well, life’s good.”

It was a lie and they both knew it. But they needed it to become the truth.

“Don't fall.” ▓▓▓ said, and vanished.

…

Someone was shaking her shoulder.

Kyoko opened one eye to see, but did not move otherwise. She was quite content how she was on the park bench.

Well, that was until she saw blue hair swaying in the afternoon breeze. She smirked.

“Yo.”

Sayaka sighed. “And you told me how dangerous the streets are.”

“Well, it's true.” She stood up and stretched. Hmmm. Something smelled nice. Something in Sayaka’s general direction. “I'm just more badass.”

She spotted the paper bag in Sayaka’s arm and made to grab it. Sayaka swatted her hand away. “Not here! We promised to meet Mami-san for lunch. Did you forget?”

“ _You_ promised her, not me.” Kyoko drawled, but still followed her to the park between Mitakihara Junior High and Mitakihara High.

With magic, it was easy to fool other students and teachers.

Sayaka was against it in the beginning, but she picked that over letting Kyoko hop from roof to roof. Of course, there was also the option of Kyoko simply _not_ going. But neither ever brought that up.

Mami was glowing with joy when they eventually showed up. Kyoko noted the stacked bento boxes by her side. She doubted it was the normal portion for her former mentor’s lunch, but she wisely chose to ignore that. She wouldn't turn down free food for pride.

Mami and Sayaka did most of the talking, but over the past two weeks since this routine started, Kyoko began loosening up a bit as well. She would throw in a jab here and there, and occasionally even lead the conversation. Things were always kept light and relaxed, like they were just three normal girls leading ordinary life.

She glanced past their picnic towel. High-rises stood stiff and proud in the world beyond, showing off their sterile coatings and competitive in who could reflect the most sunlight.

The sky was clear. Cloudless. Azure.

She thought about multi-colored trees with new blossoms and sparkling leaves that looked like stars. She thought about faint quarter moon barely visible in dawn like the end of a dream. Somewhere in the forest was her church, unbroken, sacred, and full of hope, weathering rain, hail, and sunshine.

Kyoko often found herself thinking nowadays, staring intently at something beyond vision yet nothing at all.

It took her awhile to realize it did not happen because of discontentment. On the contrary, it happened because she had begun to grasp true freedom. A relief from worry. A peace within that allowed her to stop running and ponder.

Sometimes the weary girl in her would scold her for becoming complacent. Sometimes she glared at Kyoko with a coldness that burned. In those times she always shuddered before remembering where she was. And she would look about her, bewildered, like she was waking up to eternal damnation.

But, whenever she turned around, her eyes would meet Sayaka’s. And with just one look Kyoko’s heart would be anchored.

Sayaka always smiled at her.

 

* * *

 

It had been almost three weeks since that night at Kazamino.

Kyoko had changed. Sayka observed with bittersweet admiration. Sometimes she saw the girl who lived in her home during another lifetime. A girl free from grief and independence. But more often she saw the girl who saved her. The girl who insisted she was a selfish monster but sacrificed herself for others almost every single time.

Even in the last world…

She shook her head hard.

 _Stop it._ She reprimanded herself. _You_ know _why she did it._

The memory was faint even with Madoka’s blessing. But her past with Kyoko wasn't so much as years worth of memories as it was an innate knowledge.

It was Madoka’s parting gift. That knowledge. Or so she’d like to think

But everytime gratitude surged through her, Homura’s infuriating cold voice inevitably echoed in her head.

“You overestimate yourself.”

Sayaka could almost picture her doing her signature hair-flip, looking smugly indifferent

“There is no gift. Everything is equivalent exchange. Everything you gain requires a sacrifice. Every loss you sustain will yield something in return. That is the truth of justice, and your fate is no exception.”

Sayaka very much doubted that. Homura may have done terrible, unforgivable things to them, but her devotion to Madoka was pure. Sayaka knew that better than anyone. She had quite literally become a monster in the same fashion herself.

Sometimes she suspected it was precisely because of the perfection in such purity that human, imperfect beings they were, succumbed to evil.

But even her rationale, her own understanding of the matter, and all these knowledge… they were not enough to heal the throbbing pain of betrayal. Because she was the cause of it.

“Oi. Sayaka.”

Sayaka jolted back to reality. Kyoko was waving a hand in front of her with slight annoyance, though it was not technically aimed at her.

“Ah, sorry.” She tucked her side bang nervously behind her ear. “All done?”

Under the combined nagging between Mami and herself, Kyoko finally gave up her lawless life for good. With some ‘diplomacy’, they managed to land Kyoko a job at a traditional convenience store.

The owner, an elderly woman whom Mami and Sayaka had both known since they were children, accepted their recommendation without questions. Perhaps Tanaka-san, the owner, had drawn her own conclusions from their vague description about Kyoko.

She was very kind to her, allowing her new employee great flexibility at her working arrangement. Every day she would insist Kyoko take some snack from the store, free of charge.

Kyoko repaid the kindness with loyalty and discipline. She did everything asked of her and more, from shelving the goods, taking stocks, delivering cargos, cleaning the stores, to watching over Tanaka-san’s three-year-old grandson. Tanaka-san praised her often for her diligence and thoughtfulness.

Sayaka knew all these because she had been there to witness them. In fact, she had made it a habit to wait for Kyoko to finish work everyday after school, before they head back for dinner.

“Mhmm.” Kyoko didn’t seem to be listening. She was busy tearing open a pack of cookies. One of those two-piece pack they sold in vending machines. She fished one out and handed it to Sayaka. “Want one?”

Sayaka smiled. “Sure.”

Her daily life now was filled with trivial matters. Walk Nagisa and Yuma to school in the morning. Eat lunch with Kyoko and Mami during the noon break. Wait for her to finish work after school. Go to Mami’s or shop at the supermarket for dinner. Accompany her on her nightly patrol after they did the dishes together.

Some days she would stay with Kyoko, some days Kyoko would walk her to her own home. And in the morning they would repeat it all over again.

Soon summer vacation would start, and the fall semester would begin. Sayaka could picture them repeating the same routine everyday. She made a mental note to herself to get Kyoko something warm to wear when the season changed.

Such life might have seemed so insignificant and so laughable to her past self. There was no grand adventure, no valiant battle against evil. Yet it was in them now Sayaka found hope for the future.

In the last world, when she returned with Madoka, she was happy just to see Kyoko again. Happy just to spend time with her. Become friends with her. Get to know her. Because she knew that in the end they would meet again, and they would have an eternity afterwards.

But this world… this world was different. There was no more salvation. No more valhalla for Puella Magi. In fact, she didn’t even know what would happen after their time was up.

The notion of death, of separation. They frightened her, and made her realize there was so much more she wanted.

Past the fate of Puella Magi. Past the fight around the corner. A new world with brand new possibilities. Growing up and growing old. And not having to do them alone.

“What do you want for dinner?” She asked as she bit into the cookie. It was chocolate chip. The rich aroma of cocoa and sugar spread in her mouth.

Kyoko shrugged and started eating her piece. “Anything.”

“That’s not helping.”

“That’s not my problem.”

On impulse, she grabbed Kyoko’s hand. The redhead stumbled a little at the contact, but quickly righted herself. Her mouth opened and closed a few times before she turned her head away, annoyed, and flustered.

But Sayaka felt her squeezing back a little.

Maybe time running out was a gift.

 

* * *

 

Yuma was, for most part, an obedient child. Her upbringing forced her to be observant of her surrounding, namely the mood of her birth mother, to avoid hurt.

Considering the abuse she suffered, it might come off as bizarre how well she took after Kyoko. Explosive would be an understatement to describe the redhead’s temper. And she was in all manners much more dangerous and fearsome than Yuma’s birth mother.

However, Yuma never felt afraid around Kyoko. Not in the same way she feared her mother. Underneath all the cynicism was a kind, caring soul that Yuma adored.

Maybe that's why she disobeyed her.

Tonight was the third night since Mami and Nagisa resumed their nightly patrol on the street. Like the previous two nights, Yuma was left alone in their apartment.

She felt restless, anxious. Alone with her thoughts, she kept thinking about her extended family, somewhere out there, fighting monsters only a few could see.

Monsters _she_ could see.

Kyoko had vehemently objected the idea of Yuma becoming a Puella Magi under any circumstances. She had reacted with bitter outrage whenever it was brought up, either by Kyuubey or Yuma, and even went as far as threatening violence.

Not that Yuma believed Kyoko could actually bring herself to seriously harm her.

She knew Kyoko had lost people she cared about because of the Puella Magi business, so she had always listened and steered clear from anything to do with it and, by extension, Kyuubey.

But it did not mean her own fear of losing Kyoko ever disappeared.

That was why, on this night, half an hour after Mami and Nagisa went out, Yuma opened the apartment door.

She took a tentative peek outside, half-expecting to see Kyoko or Mami standing there with hands on their hip and a lecture on their lips. But there was no one in the hallway. The only moving shadow was the scant few moths. They drifted towards the lamp, got burnt by the bulb, flew away for a little, and repeated the process all over again.

She snuck out as quietly as she could.

The streets were darker than she anticipated. The lamps were faint and dull, barely chasing away the shadow pressing in from all around. Even the neon signs of shops and stores looked like flickering candles of various colors.

For a moment she almost turned back, but it was at that same instant the door shut completely with a soft ‘click’.

Yuma put a hand on the wall and, carefully, frightfully, began to walk.

She hesitated again at the apartment entrance, but the pause was much shorter this time. It felt as if she was already adrift in darkness. Going a little further would make no difference.

“Looking for Sakura Kyoko?”

Yuma almost screamed.

She stopped herself with both hands covering her mouth. Once upon a time this reflex had prevented her from drawing her abusive parents’ attention and their wraths.

She calmed down enough to recognize that voice, before she spotted the ghostly white lurking in the shadow. The creature sat on its hind legs, half of its body beyond the reach of lamplights.

“Kyoko said not to talk to you.” She spoke softly, as if telling a secret.

“Well.” The Incubator did not move. “You just did.”

Yuma blinked, and flinched a little. “I have to go.” She pulled at her jacket sleeves nervously. “Um, goodbye.”

She took several steps before looking back, and almost yelped. Kyuubey had vanished from the shade by the wall.

It was now perched on her shoulder.

Both her feet left the ground for a whole second. She shoved the creature off on instinct, and immediately felt sort of bad. It’s not nice to shove people… well, or animals. Right?

The Incubator landed like a cat with invisible wings, not at all fazed. It continued speaking, though its mouth never moved.

“It is unsafe for you to wander on the street. Becoming a Puella Magi will decrease your risk of injury.”

Kyoko’s stern face popped into her mind. Yuma withdrew a little more. “I can’t.”

“Is it not your goal to find Sakura Kyoko? The probability of you happening upon her is low.” It said. “However, were you a Puella Magi…”

“Kyoko said not to contract.” Yuma frowned. “And couldn’t you help me find her?”

“I can.” Kyuubey replied in the same monotone. “Although contracting is preferable.”

Yuma let out a sigh of relief. She resumed her walk. When she peered back, Kyuubey had somehow climbed onto her shoulder again. She did not hear or feel its ascent.

“Why’d you still want to make me contract anyway?” She asked. “Kyoko told you what she’d do.”

Which was very gruesome, and borderline cruel. It was probably worse than what the Wraiths made her parents do to each other.

“Contracting is my sole purpose.” The Incubator did not blink. “Her threat is irrelevant.”

“Isn’t that lonely?”

“That feature is not supported.”

“What do you mean?”

“It means I, or perhaps it is more accurate to use the term ‘we’, the Incubator, do not experience emotions as you human do. We serve a purpose, and that is the continuous existence and balance of the universe.”

“So you… want to save the universe?”

“It is not a desire. It is a purpose. It is, in a sense, us.”

Yuma thought about it for a while. She did not completely understand, but hearing the creature say it with such passionless tone saddened her. Shouldn’t it be a noble goal? At least in all the stories she heard, saving the world had always been something heroes do. Brave, just, and virtuous people.

“That sounds lonely.”

“Then perhaps it is. To you.”

They walked in silence after that, past the park and skirting across the streets. Whenever they approached voices or footsteps or the purring of engines, Yuma skillfully ducked out of sight until they passed. And the Incubator said nothing.

The city was half asleep. Half inebriated. People talk loudly to their companion, which was sometimes their own shadows. They paid no mind to where they were, or where they were going, just following the lights they mistook as stars. Everybody seemed to be stuck or running around in circles.

They traversed through the less inhabited parts of the city, with Yuma whispering a request for direction every now and then. Kyuubey only ever strayed from giving an explicit answer once, in the very beginning, when it asked in return.

“Do you seek the fastest route?”

Yuma nodded, thinking it was an odd question to ask. What other route was there to pursue?

Before she thought too deeply, the Incubator said. “Turn left.” And her vague curiosity faded away.

She must have walked for an hour at least. Her legs were getting sore from the travel, and her breathing was not as quiet as it had been when she first set out. She realized several blocks ago she recognized nothing from her surrounding. She had no idea where she was or how to return to Mami’s, but she pressed it down because she did not know how to turn back now.

They came out from the twisting alleyways to an abandoned parking lot. A building with half-hanging sign stood on the other end, looming like a muted giant. Exhaustion and uncertainty put doubts in her mind, then fear.

Yuma stopped at the center of the lot, beneath a flickering lamp.

“How much longer?” She asked.

“Recalculating.” Kyuubey paused. “She is moving again. It seems she has finished another battle. Would you like to wait until she stops moving first?”

“Wait.” Yuma frowned with a terrible realization. “If she’s moving, how am I going to catch up?”

“With your average speed, the chance of succeeding is extremely low.” The creature replied. “Even with her stops, the distance between you had only closed for twenty meters.”

Yet she had walked and walked, for how long? How many meters?

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“This is the first instance you request a status update.” Kyuubey tilted its head, perhaps in imitation of confusion. “Would you like the next status update after the same interval?”

Yuma felt frustrated. It was not fair.

“You tricked me!”

She did not mean to cry, but the tears started pouring out in earnest. Her aching feet lost the strength to keep her upright, and she stumbled down on the empty parking lot.

The sudden movement shook Kyuubey off her shoulder. It sat on its haunches next to her, eyes unblinking.

“The statement is erroneous.”

“It’s not!” Yuma couldn’t keep her voice down. She was tired and angry. The tears wouldn’t stop. “You’re mean!”

“That statement is also erroneous.”

“Go away!” She yelled through blurry eyes. “Just go away!”

The Incubator obeyed without protest. Yuma watched it slinking away to the edge of the parking lot, before disappearing in another pool of shadows.

Tears began dropping down her chins in earnest. She had made a mistake - she knew that now. She regretted not listening to her caretakers. She wanted to go home, to be in that comfortable apartment filled with light and smell of freshly baked pastry, but she did not know where she was. She did not know how to get home.

Yuma sat there crying for a long time. When she finally stopped, it was mostly because she was tired from it and knew nobody was coming to help her.

She stood up and wiped her face on her sleeves. Mami bought her this jacket. She told her this jacket matched with Kyoko’s.

It was only then she noticed the silence, and emptiness. The light above her seemed to have dimmed while she was crying.

A chill ran down her spine.

“Kyuubey?” She whispered with trembling voice.

Something moved in the corner of her vision, but when she turned to look she saw only the empty lot and the building in the distance. Whatever she saw, or thought she saw, it was definitely not the alien creature.

She opened her mouth again, but fear trapped the words in her throat. She wanted to call for help, but who would hear it? She wanted to keep quiet and stay hidden, but whatever was lurking in the shadow must have already known she was here.

“Kyuubey?” She tried again, louder this time. Still, the alien did not reappear.

The chill grew into a sort of icy weight that spread through her limbs. She shook in a vain effort to keep herself warm, but was otherwise unable to move.

The looming silence and darkness was suffocating. Yuma gasped for breath.

“Come-come back.” Her mouth moved, but she couldn’t even hear herself. “Kyuubey, come back…”

The shadows grew like an eclipse, until Yuma was certain they were surging towards her. The lamps in the parking lot all went out at once.

She scrambled to the nearest light source, which came from a flickering bulb at the edge of the abandoned building. When she got closer, she could see spider webs gathered around the corner like bandages of a mummy.

As Yuma scurried closer, she saw only dead flies and moths trapped in the web. Dead, and forgotten.

Would she die here also, and be forgotten by the world?

She tried her best not to think like that. She knew it was not true. Kyoko would worry. Surely she would realize Yuma was gone and came looking for her. Surely Nagisa would too, and Mami-neechan, and Sayaka-neechan…

But what if they didn’t? What if they didn’t even notice she was gone, or simply didn’t care?

The more she tried to get away from the thought, the deeper she became entrapped by it. She was the fly, the moth, the dust that got caught up in the spider web. And she would remain so, until the end of time.

The shadows took form around her. Yuma could barely see them through her tears, but she knew it in her heart.

Wraiths. The ghosts of her parents. They were angry with her for surviving. They had come to take her, to finish what they started.

And Yuma couldn’t find an ounce of energy to fight back.

She saw a ghastly imitation of her birth mother approaching, a knife in her claw-like hands. She was moving in unnatural, lurching motion. Closer, and closer…

She curled up into a ball, hugging her knees to her chest like she used to.

“I’m sorry.” She sobbed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to live. I didn’t mean to. Forgive me. Forgive me.”

Another Wraith joined her mother. This one wore the face of her father. They had no eyes or noses, only mouths slightly agape emitting lifeless moans of despair.

Yuma wanted to close her eyes. She did not want to see the horrific sight. Maybe if she stayed still and quiet, it would be over soon. Maybe she wouldn’t suffer.

But before she did, she caught a flick of white. She turned with the last of her strength.

“Will you die here?” Kyuubey was sitting inches from her face. Its lightless eyes boring into Yuma’s frightened green. “Or will you accept the fate of a Puella Magi?”

Yuma opened her mouth, managing only a soft whimper.

She knew this was exactly what the Incubator was waiting for, perhaps it even led her right into it. Kyoko, Mami, and Nagisa had all warned her as much.

But what choice did she have?

Her primal instinct cried out in desperation, pleading to be saved. She didn’t want to die like this. She still wanted to feel Kyoko affectionately ruffling her hair again. She wanted to tease Sayaka about her very obvious infatuation again. She wanted to listen to Mami’s bedtime story again. She wanted to sneak bites of dessert with Nagisa again.

“I…”

“Say your wish, and the contract will be completed.”

Her parents were almost upon her. The knives had fused with their hands, becoming the sharp claws. They were reaching for her. She shut her eyes as tight as she could.

“I-I want to-”

Before she could utter another word, a shrill scream cut through the suffocating air.

For a despairing moment, Yuma thought she was too late to make her wish. She thought she hesitated for too long, and now death had finally grasped her.

But instead of the cold fingers or burning blood, she felt a pair of warm hands lifting her up. The arms circled around her, holding her tightly, protectively.

“Kyoko?”

She opened her eyes, hopeful. But instead of her guardian, she saw the blue-haired girl who had always smiled for them.

“It’s okay now.” Sayaka said. She was smiling with the same gentleness Yuma had always seen, but with something else. Somberness? Concern? “It’s okay now, Yuma-chan.”

Something exploded behind them. They both turned to look. Yuma’s eyes widened slightly.

Kyoko was here. Like the hero in storybooks, she had come for Yuma. She had saved her just in time. She was fighting the Wraiths like Yuma always imagined. She was fast, and strong, and invincible.

But…

Something was wrong. Horribly wrong.

Kyoko did not have that confident smirk Yuma always pictured would be there when she valiantly defeat the creatures of darkness.

Instead, it was detached fury on her face, and a frigid glimmer in her eyes. It turned hard and unreadable when another Wraith took human form, this time in likeness of a girl close to Yuma’s age, with a bun on top…

“Yuma-chan, look at me.” Sayaka gently but firmly tilted her face back, and touched their foreheads together. She took up all of Yuma’s vision. “Just look at me, okay?”

The last part of her request was muffled, because Sayaka had also put her hands around Yuma’s ears. She was saying something else. Her lips moved slowly, deliberately.

“まだダメよ。”

It took Yuma several seconds to realize Sayaka was singing to her. Her voice reached her through the arms, muffled like they were both underwater.

What color will morning be?

Yuma could not avert her eyes even if she wanted to, and she did not. She was transfixed, like she was under a spell. Only it was not a spell. It was a lullaby.

Where is the slumbering child?

She leaned against the warmth. She closed her eyes from the eternal war, from their sorrow, from her regret. Tears fell soundlessly onto her cheek, dampening the hands shielding her from the cruel world.

Good morning, nightmare.

She could feel the battle, could feel the vicious warcry, could feel the sufferings of two people too afraid they were not good enough for each other. She wept for them, wept for her own mistake, and tried desperately to hold on.

Sayaka kissed her forehead the way her birth mother ought to, but never did. Her whisper was soft, loving, and pained.

“まだダメよ。"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ha. I lied.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to start off by thanking all who kindly provided their thoughts on the matter of what to do with this fic.  
> Thank you and, the verdict is, I’m just going to try finish this first before revamping.
> 
> I know it’s not realistic to expect audiences to re-read something, unless it’s exceptionally good (which let’s face it, this ain’t it and I’m not being humble). I do want to give it my best on first revision, alas I am not that competent of a writer.  
> So yeah all the updates for plot and all the adjustments that should make characters feel like their thoughts are actually progressing will be done when I do a reprised version or something.
> 
> “Wait,” I hear. “Why don’t you write out the entire story first, fix it, and then post it when you are done?”  
> That is a reasonable and logical solution. And yes, I did think about that. One problem.  
> I suck at doing just that.

Even through the haze of rage, Kyoko could feel the numbness pulsing through her veins.

Her spear sliced through two Wraiths at once, clean and effortless. It was difficult to accept such weaklings could have hurt Yuma. Could have snuffed out the child’s life as easily as blowing out a candle, like how she was stomping out theirs.

It was different, wasn’t it? The Wraiths were not alive. That’s why it was so easy. But then again, Kyoko had killed live things. She had killed without remembering or knowing.

She was sweating from the heat of battle, but the thoughts chilled her to the bones. It was as if the Wraiths had grasped her soul with their skeletal fingers. And all she could do was run, and kill, and pray she would be out of their reach.

When she ran out of enemies to destroy, her mind drifted briefly to Sayaka and Yuma. They were waiting for her, she remembered. Did she intervene in time? There was no time to check, but if something did happen, surely Sayaka would let her know, right?

Kyoko started to turn.

And for one eternal second, instead of Sayaka and Yuma, she saw her family.

They stood dead under the streetlamp, drenched in blood, eyes empty, looking right at her. Momo’s jaw loosened slightly. Her flesh rotten away into a red smile.

“Kyoko?”

She blinked and they were gone.

They were never there. But Sayaka was, and Yuma. They were huddled under the same lamplight she saw her family in. Sayaka still held Yuma’s head in her arms, keeping her away from the horror. And now she was looking up.

Kyoko thought it would comfort her to see those unwavering eyes, and it might have. It had become part of their routine. A partnership, as Sayaka once jokingly referred.

Once again her expectation stepped into thin air and there was a lurch in her stomach like she was free-falling off the top of the observation tower. Because when Sayaka’s expression became visible to her, Kyoko saw a girl smiling in despair as one last drop of tear tumbled off her pale cheek.

She blinked and that image, too, was gone. Replaced by the burning concern aimed towards her. Kyoko took one step back and almost fell. She didn’t realize she had begun shaking.

“Kyoko?” Sayaka called her again. She made to stand up, and at the last moment remembered she was still shielding Yuma. Her eyes flickered back to the child still curled up in her embrace.

An ominous pressure spread from inside out. Kyoko tried to stop it, holding herself as still as she could, but she could see her shadow trembling. She could see the two civilians sitting in the dying light.

What was she thinking letting Sayaka tag along? Whatever the Incubator said, Sayaka was just a normal girl. She could have been killed. Yuma almost did.

She could see now she had been foolish and selfish, even more unforgivable than she already was. And there she was pretending she wanted to become a better person.

It was more than she could bear.

“Get-” her mouth moved on its own accord. She did not recognize that voice. “Get Yuma home.”

“Kyoko-”

“Take her back.”

When she was much younger, there was once she fell into a creek in the beginning of winter. She climbed out of the shallow water in seconds, but the stream still drenched her. She remembered the prickling sensation burning from the tip of her limbs as she stumbled towards home.

This felt similar. She tried to remember the soft blankets and hot chocolate her mother made to warm her once she reached her house. She knew she must have reached her home, because otherwise she wouldn’t be standing here now. But all she could recall was the biting wind whipping across her body.

The numbness continued to spread. It was as if she never escaped from that winter. She only dreamt everything afterwards.

She turned her back on them, trying to hide herself. She was afraid to know how she looked, and even more so to let them see her like this. Her mouth moved again. “There is another group nearby.”

 _Don’t worry about me._ She wanted to tell Sayaka. _I will be right back._ Her lips were frozen shut.

“Kyoko!”

With a burst of energy, she began to run.

And at the corner of her eyes, she could see Momo waving at her, smiling her blood-stained smile.

 

* * *

 

Something was terribly wrong.

Sayaka knew that. She knew it the moment Kyoko snapped her head around in the middle of the fight, and began sprinting down the street. She knew it before she even saw Yuma whimpering in the dim light. She knew it before Kyoko howled and charged at enemies she could no longer see.

Sayaka hated how useless she was in this universe. She couldn’t fight alongside Kyoko like she used to. Couldn’t watch her back.

When they first met Mami and began accompanying her during her night patrol, Nagisa expressed similar resentment.

“I hate being so helpless to her.” The girl said many times when they were alone. “Mami shouldn’t have to bear all these burdens alone.”

Sayaka didn’t ask whether Nagisa regretted helping Madoka break out of Homura’s illusion. In those days her answer had began to waver.

A few months later, Nagisa moved in with Mami, and she no longer complain about their lack of magic. Another semester drifted by. Before Mami graduated, Sayaka stopped joining the patrol. Instead she devoted herself to searching Kazamino whenever she could.

She didn’t care much about school, but soon she would lose the freedom to roam as she liked after school. Everyone would expect her to dedicate herself in her study as one of the graduating class.

Sayaka decided she had been passive long enough.

Just before school started again, Nagisa met with Sayaka alone. Mami was out of town to meet her lawyer.

“Maybe you should ask Mami to help.” Nagisa suggested over a mouthful of cheesecake Mami made the previous night. “It would be a lot faster, and easier than you going to Kazamino everyday.”

“But Mami-san didn't remember. It’d be like poking at old wounds.”

“About that…” Nagisa put down her fork. She stared at the half-eaten cake for a long moment. “I was thinking about telling her.”

“What?” Sayaka flinched. “Why?”

“Because what kind of life can I have if it's built on lies?” Nagisa looked up to her. She was asking that question to both Sayaka and herself. “That's why we helped her tear down the world, right? Because no matter how happy everyone was, it was built on a lie?”

Yes. Sayaka had wanted to say. Yes, that's exactly why.

But a part of her objected fiercely. The foundation of it may be an illusion, but what they felt, the happiness they had… those weren't lies.

“We did our best.” Sayaka found herself saying. “No matter what, it’s done.”

Nagisa nodded, stared at the cake a bit longer, and picked up her fork.

“So now what do we do?”

“Live?”

“I mean about Kyoko.”

“Oh.”

“If I tell Mami about our past, do you want me to also ask for her help?”

“I…”

What would Kyoko do? If she was in her position right now, would Kyoko do it? Would Kyoko even try to find her again? In the last world-

“…I can hear you thinking about what she did.” Nagisa deadpanned.

Sayaka flinched again.

“I still don’t understand it.” Nagisa sighed. “But Mami did, I think. Before the end, she told me she might have been tempted too if she’d known.”

“Really?”

“When you treasure someone that much, you’d do anything. That’s what she said. But there’s more. Kyoko had her own ways to show her kindness.”

“I know.” Sayaka pulled her knees up to her chest. “I know…”

“Mami said it may not make it right, but Kyoko wasn’t fighting us to do the right thing. If she did she wouldn’t let you beat her.” Nagisa paused. “I think Mami’s right, even if I can’t explain it.”

Sayaka could still remember the sickening softness of her blade sinking into Kyoko’s side. When Kyoko looked up from her kneeling position, she had such a gentle smile, like she was ready to die. Sayaka couldn’t do it, even though just moments ago she was still determined to do whatever it takes to end it all

In the end Kyoko escaped with the gaping wound on her side. Homura and Madoka fought in a completely different dimensional level they couldn’t really help with. Mami took Nagisa away to give her some space. And Sayaka threw up behind an alley.

When she pulled herself together, the war was nearly over.

“Did you talk to her before the end?” Nagisa asked.

Sayaka buried her face into her knees.

They stayed quiet for a while. When Sayaka sorted through her thoughts and looked up, Nagisa was turning the fork between her fingers.

“I need to find her.”

“Mhmm.”

“I want to find her on my own.”

“She must still be in Kazamino.” Nagisa nodded. “Good luck.”

That was six weeks before she found her in the Sakura Church.

And now, looking at her retreating back, Sayaka had a feeling she was losing Kyoko again.

 

* * *

 

Yuma knew she messed up.

When Sayaka released her, she was expecting to see Kyoko running towards them. In her mind, she saw Kyoko detransforming before pulling her into a hug. She was ready to beat her to the punch and crash into her arm. The words of apology were already forming on her lips.

When she turned around, Kyoko was running, but not towards them. She ran away. She disappeared into the night in the blink of an eye. Yuma didn’t even have time to call out to her. To say she was sorry.

What if Kyoko never come back?

Yuma knew Kyoko cared about her, even though she would never be caught saying such thing. If she didn’t care, she wouldn’t have saved Yuma from the Wraiths. If she didn’t, she wouldn’t have taken her in and sheltered her for three years.

Everytime Yuma had a nightmare, Kyoko was always there to gently tuck her in and comfort her. In some of the coldest winter nights when they had no money to rent a proper room, Yuma would be woken by Kyoko’s chattering teeth or trembling form. Her face cold as ice, and her hoodie wrapped under her arms, tucking around Yuma herself.

Kyoko always protected her.

Yuma had always wanted to repay Kyoko for her kindness. She always tried her best to be helpful even if she did not know how. If Kyoko wasn’t so set against the idea, she might have contracted with Kyuubey a long time ago.

And now she had done something incredibly stupid. Kyoko must be mad at her. Maybe she grew resentful of her and would never come back, like her parents did.

“Sorry…” She sobbed into Sayaka’s front. She knew Kyoko couldn’t hear her, but she needed to apologize. It couldn’t wait. “I’m sorry…”

Sayaka was startled by her outburst and immediately wrapped her arms around her again. Her movement was a little clumsy, like she wasn’t quite sure how to hold a child. But her voice was soothing.

“It’s not your fault.” Sayaka reassured her in the same kind of voice Kyoko used to say goodnight to her. “Kyoko isn’t mad at you.”

“But-but…”

“It’s okay. It’s okay.” Sayaka patted her hair. “I’ll find her. Don’t worry, Yuma-chan. I’ll find Kyoko.”

Yuma nodded with a whimper, before she spoke up again. “But… if Kyoko wasn’t mad at me, why did she run away?”

“She’s-” Sayaka seemed to be caught in a predicament. She noticed Yuma beginning to cry again and immediately tried calm her down. “She said- said there’s another group of Wraiths.”

It wasn’t the whole truth. They both knew that.

“Will she come back?” Yuma whispered.

Sayaka’s arms tightened around her. She could tell the older girl was as afraid as, if not more than, her.

Yuma was observant. Of course she sensed the strong attachment Sayaka showed towards Kyoko. In fact, the only person not realizing it (or perhaps, refused to acknowledge it) was Kyoko herself. Yuma had whispered about their latest interactions with Nagisa almost on a nightly basis, when they ought to be asleep.

Sometimes they giggled too loudly and attracted Mami to the room. Though whenever Yuma asked what Mami thought about them, their caretaker would just blush profusely and insist they should go to bed.

“She will.” Sayaka murmured. “She has to.”

Yuma sank her face a bit deeper, willing them both to believe.

A few minutes later, Mami arrived with Nagisa in tow.

“Miki-san, Yuma-chan! Are you two alright?”

Yuma let herself be pulled away from Sayaka’s arms and into Mami’s softness. She felt guilty still, but she couldn’t resist the need to be held closely and safely.

Nagisa joined in as well. She rubbed Yuma’s back, face full of concern.

“Sakura-san?” Mami looked about them, sounding as perplexed as she looked. She called again, raising her voice and the urgency of her tone. “Sakura-san?”

Yuma buried her face deeper, until she was sure she would suffocate. Maybe it would be better for her to disappear.

“Miki-san,” Mami finally turned to Sayaka. Her voice dropped low again. “Where is Sakura-san? What happened?”

Sayaka was quiet. Yuma imagined Sayaka must be looking at her with disgust.

But when Sayaka spoke, her voice was that of self-resentment.

“She… she ran. Mami-san, it was my fault. I couldn’t stop her.” She cleared her throat in an effort to keep away the lump. “Could- could you please look after Yuma-chan? I’ll go look for her. I’ll find her.”

Yuma felt Mami holding on a little tighter.

Nagisa told her what happened between Kyoko and Mami, so she knew Mami must also want to go look for her. In truth, Yuma wanted to as well. Except she knew she would just be a hindrance to them all, and even if she wasn’t, she didn’t know if she would be welcomed.

“I understand.” Mami said slowly, quietly. Then, with Yuma still pressed against her, she bowed as deeply as she could. “Please find her, Miki-san. Please don’t let her be alone. This is my wish as her former mentor. Her former friend.”

Sayaka was crying a little, but she chuckled.

“Not former.” She said. “And not friend. Mami-san. I think Kyoko see you as her family. I know she does.”

Mami tensed for a moment, before she straightened up. Yuma tilted her head up to look at their faces. There were stars in both of their eyes.

“I’d like that.” Mami said.

Nagisa hugged Mami from behind. Her face was right in front of Yuma’s own. Yuma could see undisguised joy and sorrow.

Mami whispered a word of appreciation to Nagisa, before she looked down into her arms and smiled at Yuma.

“Let’s go home.” She said gently.

Yuma wondered why she didn’t blame her for driving Kyoko away. Why didn’t any of them blame her?

Sayaka kneeled down next to her. It seemed she had spoken her thought out loud.

“Yuma-chan, Kyoko wasn’t mad at you.” Sayaka said sternly to her. “She’s… I think she’s angry with herself.”

“I don’t understand.”

Pain flashed through Sayaka’s ocean blue eyes. She held Yuma’s cheeks in her palms again and touched their foreheads together.

“Sometimes.” Her reply was wistful as the lightness of being. “I don’t either.”

 

* * *

 

She was hyperventilating.

Momo stood in front of her, arms outstretched.

“Onee-chan.” Her baby sister smiled up at her, not a day older from the last time she saw her. “Onee-chan, let’s play.”

 _It’s not real._ The voice in her head said. _It’s not real._

Of course it’s not. She snapped at the voice. The real Momo was cold and six feet under. Kyoko watched them put her in a casket and lower it to the ground, right next to her parents.

“Onee-chan?” Momo’s lips turned downwards into a frown. “You don’t want Momo anymore?”

“No! No that’s not it!” She couldn’t help herself. She knew this was not real but she couldn’t stop herself from reacting. “Everyday… Momo, I’ve missed you everyday.”

Momo tilted her head to the side, if not understanding her words.

“I can’t-” the words came tumbling out of her mouth like a waterfall. Where’s the plug? Where’s the faucet to turn it off? “I wanted to join you. I wanted to follow. I wanted to-”

She tried to touch her sister’s sweet innocent face, but she took a step back just out of her reach and someone else stood out from the shadow. Someone wearing a long flowing black robe with a brooch on his chest. She took that brooch. Stole it. How did he get it back?

“Kyoko.” Her father opened his arms like a benevolent god. And in a sense he _was_. He was the center of her universe and the only thing that kept her grounded. “You must repent.”

She took a shaky breath and involuntarily blinked. They were gone.

She blinked again and they were back. Still out of her reach and still with arms wide open.

“How?” She asked through perched throat and a lungful of desperation. “How?!”

He leapt off the edge of the world and Momo was the half peeled apple on the floor. She dove before it happened and landed after they both turned to puddles of blood. Her fingers dug into the pavement as she screamed.

Everything was going too fast and too loud and too unreasonable and why was her time stopped in the past? Why was there no sound other than her dead heart?

_Don’t leave me alone. Don’t leave me alone. Where did you go?_

“Onee-chan.” Momo was looking up to her with sunken cheek and empty eyes. “I’m hungry.”

 _I have food. I can feed you. You will never go hungry again._ Kyoko mouthed those words. But the sound that came out was younger, and completely helpless.

“We have nothing.” Her younger self said with a frown. “Come on. Tough it out.”

She hated her with what remained of a heart. _It was your fault._ She screamed, but she could not be heard. _You are her fucking sister. Do something._ She hated her with her entire being.

“Onee-chan.” Momo was shivering. Her skin hung over her bones like an oversized T-shirt. “I’m cold.”

“There’s nothing I can do.” Her younger self laughed, chewing on a mouthful of Grief Cubes like they were gums. “Hey. Look what I can do with my magic!”

She sneezed out a christmas tree. She spat out a golden apple.

_No no no no no no no no no no no no why can’t you help her why aren’t you doing anything why did no no no no no why God why do you let her suffer why didn’t you save her why are you alive?_

Her younger self was still laughing and playing with her magic. She pulled a rabbit out of a hat before both disappeared in a puff. She produced a cake with fluffy cream and strawberries on top and handed it to Momo. It winked out of existence just as Momo bit down.

Her younger self laughed.

_Please. God, please._

Momo’s lower lip split from where she bit too hard. It began to bleed.

_Stop her. Drag her to hell for all I care. Just save her little sister._

“Onee-chan…” Momo began coughing. Everywhere it dripped her body began melting into ash. “Kyoko Onee-chan…”

_Have mercy. Have mercy on her._

There were gushes all over Momo’s body. Blood leapt out like red dolphins that grew wings. Some of them spilled onto Kyoko’s face. Some of them shot up like spring, engulfing the child’s eyes in flames.

“Onee-chan.” Momo sighed. _She’s only eight._ “I’m dead.”

“Momo!”

She scattered into a million pieces when Kyoko’s finger reached her.

And through her despair and tears, the Incubator emerged from the cloud.

“That is quite unexpected from you, Sakura Kyoko.”

Her spear materialized without her even trying. It was scorching hot. Kyoko grabbed onto the shaft and thrusted it down, piercing one of the alien’s long ears.

“What is this?!” She snarled at the alien. “What the fuck is happening to me?!”

The Incubator did not so much as twitch. “You ask an unnecessary question. As you can see, your illusion magic has returned.”

She was nauseated. Something began crumbling away from the very foundation of her being. She did her best to glare down at the creature, mostly to keep her eyes open.

But she couldn’t resist the reflex no matter how dead she was. She blinked, and in the next instance almost let go of her spear.

She was drenched in blood. Blood from many different people. She couldn’t tell who.

“If…” Her voice shook. She had killed someone. The blood fused with her skin. “If it’s my magic, why can’t I control it?”

“Because this is not how it should work.”

She jerked in surprise. Another Incubator, identical to the one she just trapped, emerged from the shadow. Was it an illusion?

“May I suggest you to refrain from attacking me on sight? It wastes energy.”

Kyoko looked down on her spear. Without her realizing, she had maimed the alien into an unrecognizable pulp of blood and fur. She felt sick.

As soon as she shoved the spear away, it exploded into black flame.

“As I was saying.” The replacement Incubator continued with the same empty voice. “Your magic may have returned, but it is out of control.”

“What… what will happen?”

It was getting difficult to think. She shook her head like a dog out of water, trying and failing to keep her mind clear.

“It depends.” The alien answered. “Sometimes the Puella Magi falls into insanity. Sometimes their Soul Gem mutates. Sometimes they simply die.”

 _Don’t listen to him._ The voice in her head said. _He’s a liar._

Then tell me what I should do. She pleaded with the voice. Tell me what I’m supposed to do.

But just like her father’s God, the voice did not answer her prayer.

“Do you want to hear our estimation?”

A part of her resisted. She did not want Yuma to see. She did not want Sayaka to see. The desire burned.

She nodded.

“Very well.” The creature said. “You will live.”

The flame inside flickered. The last bit of color draining.

The monster opened its eyes. She heard a whinny from the depth of an ocean.

“Look, Momo.” The illusion of her younger self held up an apple to the ashes of her sister, innocently happy. “Look what I have.”

 _I told you._ She heard the voice said, with the detached knowledge she was doomed from the beginning. _Beware of happiness._

Kyoko sent the spear through her nonexistent heart.

 

* * *

 

Sayaka followed her instinct. Her heart pounded in sync with her footsteps.

Somehow she _knew_ where Kyoko was. Maybe it had to do with the amount of time they spent together. Maybe it was another one of Madoka’s gift. Sayaka wasn’t sure, and she wasn’t about to question it. Not yet. Not until she found-

She stopped when her mind registered a dull shade of red in an alley she almost passed.

“Kyoko?”

Sayaka couldn’t see her quite well in the shadow, but she could see her the back of her crimson outfit. She did not turn nor acknowledge her.

It wasn’t right. Kyoko stood there still as a statue when she ought to be upset. Sayaka was expecting to find her in the middle of slicing through Wraiths when she stumbled upon the scene, or punching the wall. Anything to take out her aggression.

Not this.

“Kyoko, it’s me.” She approached tentatively. “Kyoko?”

Still, Kyoko did not react.

Sayaka realized Kyoko had detransformed at some point before her arrival. Where did the red come from? A sudden fear seized her. Surely it was only the color of her hair, right?

“Kyoko.” Sayaka swallowed as she approached carefully. It possible, she’d like to avoid unnecessarily startling her. She just wanted to bring her home. “I’m… I’m just going to check on you. Okay?”

Kyoko was so still she might as well be a statue. Sayaka’s heart twisted in her chest. She didn’t really want to look. She was afraid to find out she was once again too late and lost Kyoko forever. But she heard a soft murmur in the back of her mind encouraging her, and so she closed her fingers around Kyoko’s left wrist.

And pulled.

Kyoko’s body followed the momentum, but she did not react otherwise. When Sayaka could see her face, she almost flinched back. In such proximity, the night could no longer hide the blood smearing all over her face and limbs. Her eyes were empty, expression blank.

For a moment Sayaka’s heart stopped. The very real possibility that Kyoko had gone ahead and gotten herself killed yet again expanded beyond her capacity.

But then she heard the slow, steady breathing. Kyoko’s breathing.

“Kyoko?!” She shook her with desperate force. “Kyoko? Can you hear me?”

Kyoko looked unseeingly to her. Through her.

All her nightmare climbed out under her bed.

Then Kyoko collapsed.


	15. Chapter 15

Her tenuity was concealed underneath abundant fabrics and wild crimson hair. Both served to make her look larger, more intimidating. But the disguises were all for naught in this proximity. She was a sack of bones on her back.

Still, no matter how light she was, it was taxing to carry someone across so many blocks while avoiding being seen. Especially when that someone was of similar height, with her limp feet almost grazing on the ground. Not to mention, she was a magicless girl with no superhuman strength or endurance.

Sayaka panted with each step.

Just a few more blocks.

The apartment stood apathetic in the distance, watching her struggling down the street. The lamps reflected on its numerous windows, giving it a knowing glint.

Sayaka glared back.

“Stop judging me.” She said. “I brought her back, didn’t I?”

The building gave no reply. But when she pushed her knees jerkily to hold the door, she felt she was walking into a humorless smile.

And loath as she was to admit it, she felt a little better as soon as she dragged them both inside. Sayaka wondered whether it had been like this in other times, but she could find no evidence to support or contradict her suspicion.

She huffed as she pulled Kyoko’s arm a little higher on her shoulder, before she began to climb, one careful step after another.

In truth she wanted to hurl her over her back in a fireman carry, but she mistrusted her strength and wanted to prevent Kyoko from sustaining any more injury, bodily or otherwise.

“You better be okay.” She whispered. “Or I’ll never forgive you.”

When she finally got her all the way up the stairs and to the end of the hallway, her shirt was sticking to her body and her hands were sore. Her fingers shook a little as she found the key made of gear wheels. It took her three tries to get it into the lock.

Sayaka still puzzled over how it came into her possession. One day it just… showed up. Along with all her memories. There was no slow recognition, or a moment of big reveal. One day she woke up, and they simply were. And suddenly every nagging feelings, every question she couldn’t begin to answer made sense.

Sometimes Sayaka wondered whether she actually lived through those childhood years. Sometimes she suspected Akemi Homura simply altered their past before kicking them off to this new world. It sounded like something she could do. For her own amusement. Who knew? She always liked messing with Sayaka. Maybe especially Sayaka. And it wasn’t completely her fault.

It didn’t matter though. She pushed open the apartment door. It was a different room than the ones in Madoka’s memories (Sayaka herself rarely visited in any of the timelines).

She dropped Kyoko on the bed, a little less gently than she intended. She winced at the soft thud as the unconscious body hit the mattress. Then she rubbed her sore arms and fished out her phone, dialing for Mami.

She picked up before the second ring.

“Miki-san?”

Sayaka had to take a deep breath to stop the tears from coming out. Knowing she wasn’t alone on this soothed her. If only for a little.

“Mami-san, I found Kyoko.” She cleared her throat once her voice started to crack. “I brought her back to the apartment. She’s… she’s… I don’t know. Mami-san, something’s wrong.”

Mami lowered her voice. Footsteps echoed through the phone line. “I will be right there.” She assured her. “Could you describe her condition for me?”

Sayaka nodded, before she remembered Mami couldn’t see her. “Yeah. Yeah… she’s, she’s not bleeding anymore.” She glanced back to the bed. Okay, that wasn’t just her wishful thinking. “But she’s not healing up-”

“Sakura-san’s always been a little slow to recover from her injury.” Mami reassured her. “Was she awake when you got to her?”

Sayaka hesitated. “Yes… but also no. It’s like she wasn’t completely there. I saw her and called her but she just stood there and I thought she was just being stubborn so I tried to get her attention and she-”

“Calm down, Miki-san. You found her.”

Sayaka realized she was rambling, and pulling at her own hair. She sucked in a deep breath and put her free hand across her belly, gripping onto her shirt.

“I-I-” She cleared her throat again. “She had this  _ look _ , Mami-san. Like she threw away her Soul Gem or worse.”

“But she didn’t? It was okay?”

“Ye-yeah. I checked it right away.” Three times, actually, but she didn’t tell Mami that. “She fainted. I think. But… I don’t know.” She was watching Kyoko as she said that. Her shoulder rose and fell slowly, almost imperceptibly. Sayaka had to convince herself it was not a mere trick of light. “…I’m scared.”

Mami paused for a moment. Sayaka heard the unmistakable sound of shoes hitting the pavement.

“Miki-san.”

“Mhmm.”

“I need to hang up so I can run more quickly, but I will be there in a few minutes.” Mami told her calmly, even though the footsteps were rapid. “I want you to promise me something.”

“Mhmm.”

“Do not use your last hairpin yet, okay?”

“But-”

“If something happens to you, Sakura-san will…”

She let the sentence hung between them.

Memories came to her unwelcomingly. Purple flame that engulfed the grand concert hall, a burning candle wandering in a mist on hornless spotted horse, a farewell unspoken in her last bloodied smile. Her knowledge of the past chained her down to an inevitable promise.

“O-okay.” She said after a few seconds. “I won’t.”

“Thank you.” Mami was very gentle and understanding in her compliment. “Just wait there. I am only ten minutes away.”

Sayaka didn’t comment on how fast she must be traveling to cross the distance between her own apartment and here. Inhuman speed. There was always a risk of being seen. “Thank you, Mami-san.”

“It is my pleasure.”

Then she hung up.

Sayaka put away her phone. She stood in front of the bed, her stomach twisting with anxiety. Kyoko was still slumbering away, and her expression still blank.

Sayaka reached out to touch her face, hoping she would be comforted by her presence. Some of the dried blood crumbled on her fingertips. She winced and went into the washroom to find Kyoko’s towel, made of cotton and dyed black.

She had asked Kyoko why she picked that particular color when they bought it, remembering she had favored red in the previous times they lived together. And Kyoko had, as if the answer should be obvious, nonchalantly replied, “black hides blood.”

She was upset by the pessimism then, now she was sickened by the morbidity of it, because it came true.

Nonetheless, she pulled the towel off the rack and dampened it with fresh water, before she returned to Kyoko and, as if touching a newborn child, gently wiped away the blood.

But soon the restlessness grew unbearable. She fidgeted and struggled with her desire.

She promised Mami to not use her hairpin.

But she didn’t say anything about the lesser tokens she kept. Small objects that she collected magic in. Before she realized what she was doing, she had picked out two pens from her bag. She enchanted them at school when he was bored in class. Not once had she thought they would come in handy someday. Today.

Her body moved on its own. She held the pens in one hand and put the other on top of Kyoko’s ring. The music flew easily from her head to her palms. Music notes danced in cerulean light.

Sayaka couldn’t deny the exhilaration magic brought to her. She never considered it before she lost it, but the bliss coming from healing, from making something complete, was incomparable to most, if not all pleasures a normal girl of fifteen could rightfully experience.

There was a sense of accomplishment watching the wounds close, knowing she still had power to mend. A satisfaction from staying true to a hero of justice.

But this bliss was more than that. More than when she saved Yuma in the church. And that was because… because…

There was an urgent rap. Sayaka jumped. The light faded. She stood and looked back to the door, clutching the pens in her palm guiltily. She slipped them into her pocket as she went to allow her guest in.

Mami was panting a little from her dash, but she smiled and greeted Sayaka graciously. They wasted little time in exchanging pleasantry before moving to the bed. As Mami summoned her Soul Gem and held it above Kyoko, Sayaka shuffled behind her, holding her arms to the back like a child.

She saw Mami raising a brow and knew she had seen the traces of healing magic, but her senior just sighed and shook her head slightly, never looking back.

Then, soft golden light replaced where the blue one had been. And Sayaka watched, a little envious, and a little relieved.

She remembered the stack of Grief Cubes kept around the apartment when she noticed the golden light started dimming a little. Chastitizing herself for her inconsideration, she immediately went to fetch the bag.

Mami glimpsed at the bag and sighed again, “ah.” She said. “That’s what I thought.”

_ She knew. _ Sayaka did not move, keeping her body slightly bent to present Kyoko’s meager belongings.  _ Of course she knew.  _ Then another thought came to her.  _ And Kyoko knew she knew too. _

It was only natural. They spent nearly a year hunting Wit- no, Wraithss, together. They were a team. It was only natural for them to understand each other well.

She felt a bitter bile lumped just below her throat.

“Those are Sakura-san’s.” Mami smiled at her, mistaking her humiliation as uncertainty. She pulled a pouch out. It was much larger, and heavier than the one Sayaka presented her with. “Please put them away. I have no need of them.”

Sayaka nodded and removed the bag from Mami’s sight. But she couldn’t help herself. “Kyoko’s going to be mad you used yours.”

“These? They are not mine either.” Mami pacified her with a disarming smile. “I am merely holding on to them for her. As you are.”

Sayaka felt ashamed.

“Sorry.”

“There is no need.”

They remained quiet after that, until Kyoko’s wounds were all closed and faded to barely visible scars that would disappear before dawn.

Mami adjusted herself on the floor, sitting on her heels with her hands in her laps. But she was not facing Sayaka.

She said to a corner of the room covered in shadows. “You may come out.”

Sayaka felt a chill ran down her spine. Mami was polite, but her tone was frigid. She wondered whether Nagisa had gone ahead with her plan and told Mami everything.

“What happened?” Mami asked the thin air slightly closer to her.

Sayaka waited. She knew the Incubator was here. And despite unable to see it, she could almost sense its sickly presence from the way Mami’s gaze hardened.

Mami was silent for several minutes, with sparsely any other word in-between. What she did say she said with increasing displease and curtness. Sayaka did not know what the Incubator told her, but she knew it was worse than she thought.

Her instinct was correct. Once Mami was done listening to the story, she relayed it as mildly as she could. From how it had encouraged (so she felt, even if the Incubator would disagree) Yuma to venture out into the night, to how it accompanied her through the streets. To the abandoned parking lot where Yuma learned of its deceitful nature, and finally to how the Wraiths, attracted by Yuma’s fear and misery, gathered to her.

Mami did her best to skim over the details of the latter parts, likely to spare Sayaka from any further burden. Still, Sayaka was enraged.

She knew she should be thankful the Incubator was not actively pushing the child into contracting. Her suspicion was that Homura did something to the alien species during her recreation of the universe, but they were still just as wicked, and uncomprehending of their wickedness.

“You’re no better than the Wraiths.” She said to the space Mami had been staring at for the past couple minutes, uncaring if the Incubator was still there to hear. Uncaring if the Incubator could understand. “You are unforgivable. You and your contract-”

She was still in the middle of venting when a small cough interrupted her. She snapped around so quickly she nearly twisted her neck.

Kyoko had awoke. She was struggling to get up.

Sayaka forgot about the Incubator. Forgot about even Mami. Her heart leapt and she all but threw herself to the bed.

“Kyoko?” She gripped her hand as relief flooded her heart. “Kyoko, how are you feeling?”

Kyoko looked down to where she was gripped and blinked. Her expression did not change. The same emptiness met Sayaka’s eyes for the second time that night.

“Nothing.”

“What?” Sayaka frowned and released her hand, before she found a new target. She shook Kyoko on the shoulders slightly, exasperated. “Kyoko, now’s not the time to be stubborn.”

“I’m not.” Kyoko said, with as much liveliness as concrete.

Sayaka was about to say something else when Mami put a hand up to hush her. She was looking at the same empty space again, her face intent and alert.

Sayaka waited. The weight growing in her stomach and the strength seeping from her grip.

Finally, Mami looked to her again. She was pale.

“Kyuubey said it’s…” She swallowed. “It’s a defense mechanism.”

“He-he said…” She shook her head like she was trying to make sense of a quadratic equation that had three unknowns. “Sometimes Soul Gems partially shut down the host’s emotion to protect themselves from spiraling into despair. He said it is the same principle as blocking out physical pain…”

She paused again, listening again. And she grew only paler.

“What?” Sayaka asked, anxious. “What is it?”

But Mami didn’t hear her. She looked to Kyoko, hopeless and aghast.

“Is this what you’ve been fighting against, Sakura-san?” She whispered to Kyoko. “Is this why you left?”

Kyoko didn’t answer. She had turned to Mami when she spoke to her, but she was not looking at her. She looked right through her like she did to Sayaka.

And the realization crept up to Sayaka. This wasn’t the first time.

That would explain why she left Mitakihara and the only ally she had. That would explain her indifference to life when they first met in all those timelines. Sayaka had thought she simply put up a pretense of apathy, and she was wrong.

It was not by her choice she became detached. It was not by choice she saw in gray.

Sayaka felt sick to her stomach. All these times, she had thought Kyoko was hardened by the tragedy befallen to her. Never once did it occur to her that was an involuntary response.

Sayaka had reminded her how to feel. She had always taken pride and comfort in that. But now, she realized the horrible implication. Kyoko must have wanted to die, but she was kept from it because the Incubator willed her. And where relief should have been, where she thought it had been, it was nothing but gaping, bottomless void.

And Sayaka was the one to bring back the despair.

“Get out.” She said to where the Incubator was.

Mami was startled by the acidity of her voice, and took a moment to realize Sayaka was not talking to her.

Sayaka may have felt sorry for the misunderstanding, but she was too far gone in her rage to care about it at the moment. She shouted to the invisible enemy, sorrow bubbling in her eyes. “Get the fuck out!”

Then she collapsed to her knees, sobbing pitifully.

Mami watched her mournfully, tears welling up in her eyes as well.

And Kyoko just looked at them. Uncomprehending. Uncaring. Unseeing.

* * *

 

 

After a few minutes, Mami spoke up again.

“Before Kyuubey left,” her voice gained an edge of contempt before she smoothed it away like a well-brewed tea. “Before he left, he also told me this. The last time, it was Yuma-chan who sparked Sakura-san’s desire to live.”

Sayaka looked up from her melancholy. “Do you think she can…?”

“I don’t know.” Mami replied, thoughtful and wistful. “I asked whether he could return Sakura-san to normal. He said no. Only Sakura-san can do that.”

She halted abruptly. A gleam of fierce disgust overcame the softness.

“What is it?”

“He…” Mami shifted uncomfortably. “He said there was no reason for him to fix Sakura-san. He said it would not interfere with her ability to hunt.”

“Of course he said that.” Sayaka spat. “That’s all he ever cared about.”

Mami found pity in the very nature that rendered the Incubators indefensible. “They had no emotion.” She reminded her junior. “They were a mean to a purpose. They did not know better.”

_ But even when they did, they were still as despicable. _ Sayaka thought.  _ Or else we wouldn’t be here. _

“Could she be cured with…” She paused. “Healing magic?”

Mami assessed her for a moment, before shaking her head. “I do not think so.”

“He didn’t know?”

“And I did not ask.” Her face hardened. “You must not consider it again, Miki-san.”

“Why? If it can help Kyoko-”

“Did you forget what I said earlier?” There was no criticism in her voice, but she was unrelenting. “If I know Sakura-san at all, I will bet one of the reasons she went off the edge is due to her guilt.”

Sayaka shrank in on herself.

“Even if you can heal her with magic, what will she think of it? If your magic is your life force, and you deplete it to help her, she will never forgive herself.” Mami paused, letting her words sink in before she said more softly. “And even if it is not, she will still blame herself for endangering you.”

Sayaka could not argue with it, because it was true.

She looked to Kyoko, who remained silent and still throughout their conversation. It was like she couldn’t even hear them.

Sayaka never knew it could break her heart so. She was used to being ignored, of realizing her efforts had all been in vain in the face of destiny. Yet, seeing Kyoko’s gaze fell somewhere far beyond her, not knowing what those eyes see, was even more unbearable than she could have imagined.

_ Do you see the same vision you saw in Homura’s world? _ She wanted to ask.  _ Past the setting sun, further the distant stars, what exactly lies beyond? What future did you wish for? _

“What will you do now?”

Sayaka turned back to Mami, whose keen eyes rested on the present. On the problem at hand.

She envied her senior. Regardless of whether Nagisa had told her of the past, Mami lived in the moment. Had been all her life. Those alternative timelines must not hold the same weight to her as they did to them.

“I-” She wetted her perched lips. “I’ll stay, and watch over her.”

Mami was unsurprised by the answer. Her soft smile was accompanied by a slight nod. “And the school?”

“Final exams have already finished, so it shouldn’t be too hard to get Saotome sensei’s approval.” She answered, not completely confident as she wanted to be. “Even if… I’ll figure something out. I can’t leave her.”

Mami nodded again. “I will tell the children then.”

Sayaka approved the suggestion with her silence. Mami got up, and she did too. “Let me walk you to the door.”

Mami led the way. They said nothing more until they reached the door, at which point Mami’s confidence deteriorated once again.

“Miki-san.”

“Mhmm.”

“Call me if there’s any change.”

“I will.” Sayaka tried her best to smile. She wasn’t sure if it was any good. “I have faith. Kyoko will be back to normal in no time.”

“Mm.”

“And we will all have a tea party together.”

Mami chuckled. “I’ll be sure to bake plenty of sweets. Sakura-san has always been fond of sweets.”

“She does.” Sayaka laughed to herself, remembering the time when Kyoko nagged her for treats. “We’ll make sure she enjoy it properly. It was a shame if she couldn’t taste your cooking.”

“Yes.” Mami said. “Yes it was.”

Sayaka watched her disappear off the stair before she quietly closed the door. When she turned back to the apartment, her brave smile vanished.

Kyoko was still sitting on the bed, gazing to somewhere Sayaka could not see. 

Sayaka looked up to the hueless ceiling, sighing.

“If you can hear me,” she muttered. “Madoka, Homura. If you can hear me, I need help. Help me save her.”

Of course, the colorless ceiling did not answer her.

However, when she looked back, she saw Kyoko also gazing up. She had heard her prayer, and was now staring up to the invisible sky blocked off by the building.

For a moment Sayaka dared to hope.

Then she realized, whatever it was that compelled Kyoko to look up, it was not enough.

She sighed and walked over to her, kneeling on her bed so they were face to face. Kyoko still looked through her, and it still pained her. But she found courage in the warmth slowly returning. She held her cheeks in her palm.

“You said you want to believe, right?” She whispered. “A story where love and courage triumph…”

Kyoko did not answer.

Sayaka brushed her messy bangs from her face before leaning in. Her lips pressed on her damp forehead, still somewhat cold.

“Help me make it into reality.”

The glimmer as her lips touched the skin may have been an illusion, buy she wanted to believe.

 


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A big thank you to everyone who left a comment last time.

Early summer morning crept into the apartment. Sayaka opened her eyes without intending so. The first thing she saw was white. The white of dawn, the white of the bedsheet, the white of the wall.

They should get a curtain.

She rolled onto her side, sighing, blinked, and sat up abruptly. Her mind skid through the haze of torpor to the realization she was alone in the bed.

Kyoko. Where was Kyoko?

In her vulnerability, her mind assumed the worst and remembered the worst. Was everything just a dream? Was she still trapped in Homura’s illusion? Was this the reality where Kyoko betrayed…

_ She didn’t. _ Two voices said in her head. One patient and comforting. The other callous and haughty. Sayaka shook her head, more to the point of dispelling her own weakness.

It was not a dream. None of them. They had all paid prices too high for this reality.

“Kyoko?”

There was no answer.

She got up from the bed to have a better vantage of the room. And moments later she found the crimson hair coiling on the couch like a nest of snake. She tiptoed over. Kyoko was still asleep, still expressionless.

Sayaka resisted the urge to touch her face, or run her fingers through her locks. It was still too early to suffer her new unresponsiveness.

She brushed her teeth and washed her face as quietly as possible. Then she crossed the room to find her phone. The battery was nearly drained. Maybe it would survive the call? She went into the kitchen, dialing the number to the school.

The teachers usually arrive early. Especially those with a homeroom to attend to. Saotome Kazuko was no exception.

Despite her oddities of randomly going off on a tangent with her personal life, she was a responsible and caring teacher. Sayaka knew this because she had seen timelines after timelines of Saotome drinking with the older Kaname after her funerals. And she had come to admire the strength with which she expressed her grief, no less heartfelt, but refrained.

Maybe grief without destruction was an adult’s skill. Maybe regret without abandonment was something one learned only with the passing of age. Sayaka wouldn’t know. She never experienced it.

The line connected.

“Good morning.” An old woman’s voice chimed from the other end. “This is Mitakihara Junior High administration’s office. How may I help you?”

“Good morning.” Her fingers twitched around the hem of her T-shirt. “I’m Miki Sayaka from 3-B. May I speak with Saotome sensei if she is there?”

“One moment.” The receptionist paused. “I will transfer you over. She should be at her desk.”

“Thank you.”

The soft tune of their school anthem played for a few seconds. Sayaka tapped her fingers along the beat. She always got nervous when she was waiting. For the phone call. For the hunt. For Kyoko.

“Hello?”

She stopped drumming.

“Good morning, Saotome sensei.” She said hastily. “I’m just calling to say I won’t be able to attend school for the rest of the semester.”

Saotome paused on the other side, perhaps in confusion. So Sayaka added. “Ah. It’s Miki Sayaka.”

“Good morning to you too, Miki-san.” Saotome chuckled a little. “As for the days off, what is your reason?”

Sayaka began drumming again. “Um.” She had come up with an excuse last night, hadn’t she? So why was her mind blanking out? “I sort of have an emergency.”

“Which is? Not finishing homework does not count.”

Sayaka laughed a little at the joke too. She felt slightly better. “No, no. It’s not that.” She took a deep breath. Truth was always the best option. Maybe not the whole truth, but some truth. “So um, a friend of mine fell ill…”

“From our class?”

“No. She’s from out of town. And her parents-” she swallowed involuntarily. “-aren’t around.”

Saotome took a few seconds to consider it. “Hmmm.” She said slowly. “Have you contacted them?”

“N-no.” Sayaka stammered a little. “I don’t have a way to.”

“Where are they?”

“I don’t know.”

“And her sickness? Is it urgent? Perhaps you should take her to a hospital and let them take care of her.”

“It’s… a little complicated. We had someone over to check on her last night, and well, she said we should let her rest.”

“But someone has to watch over her?”

“Yes.”

Saotome paused longer. “Is there no other adult around?”

Sayaka bit her lips. She knew Saotome was just trying to help. “No.” She said quietly, but firmly. “Please, sensei. I wouldn’t ask if it’s not important.”

Saotome sighed. “Miki-san, I don’t doubt that. But good intention does not equate to competence. Are you sure you will be fine on your own?”

_ No. _

“Yes.”

“Now that exams are over, I suppose I can make an exception.” She sighed again. “Very well then. However, please do try to find other adults to take over the situation.”

_ If only. _ “I will. Thank you, sensei.”

After she hung up, she returned to the living room. Kyoko was still asleep. Sayaka sat down next to the couch, her side leaning against the arms as she watched the slumbering face.

Her unconsciousness held a hint of the aloofness just before the grand unraveling of Homura’s world. Sayaka entwined their fingers together, resting on the cushion. Kyoko’s usually was warm. There were only a few times her body temperature got quite so low. Once she lost enough blood that would have killed normal adults. Once she turned into a Witch. And…

Sayaka closed her eyes, unsure whether she was trying to remember or forget. The last time Kyoko felt like this was back in that world. It still haunted her, how she said goodbye without looking back. How she smiled when she thought she would die by her hand.

“You should have relied on me more.” She complained under her breath. “Although… I guess I wasn’t exactly any good at it. Being reliable, I mean.”

Kyoko breathed on steadily.

“And you’re too stubborn, you know? Such self-centered selflessness.”

Off in the distance, the train rolled into station.

“But that’s why I…”

She opened her eyes, wanting to see her face when she finally came out and say it, even though it would not be heard.

She was not prepared to see crimson eyes looking back at her.

“Wha-” Sayaka fell backwards, releasing her hold and throwing her hands up in the process. “Kyoko?! When did you wake up?”

“When you did.”

Sayaka felt all the blood rushing to her face.

“An-and you just- why didn’t you say something?!”

“I don’t feel a need to.”

“But you- but you heard…?”

Kyoko nodded.

“Why, you-”

She trailed off before giving the proper lecture of basic decency when accidentally hearing the beginning of a heartfelt confession. Because, although her gaze fell on Kyoko, Kyoko’s was not on her.

Those dull eyes had nothing. No teasing twinkle. No confusion. No bashfulness. Nothing.

Sayaka’s embarrassment soured. 

She stood up slowly, and returned to her side. Kyoko’s head followed her movement, like the shadow of a cloud.

“Time to get up.” She reached out and took her hands again.

Kyoko did not react, just allowed Sayaka to drag her out from the bed, push her into the washroom to be brushed up, and out again to the dining table.

Sayaka sat Kyoko down and went into the kitchen to make breakfast.

Thinking Kyoko must be starving, she opted for something simple and fast. The fume from the frying pan stung her eyes. And it took more time than it ought to.

When she came out, Kyoko was exactly where and how she left her. She laid one plate before her, half expecting Kyoko would at least be enticed by the sight or scent of food, like she always did. But still, Kyoko just sat there.

“Why aren’t you eating?” Sayaka frowned with concern. Was her enthusiasm previously all fake? Or was there something else wrong? “Aren’t you hungry?”

“I don’t feel the need to.”

That again.

“But you are always hungry.”

As if to confirm, Kyoko’s stomach growled loudly at that exact moment. Sayaka’s expression morphed into something between amusement and surprise.

Kyoko’s own did not change. She simply said again. “I don’t feel the need to.”

And Sayaka realized, without her emotion, Kyoko had no desire. Not to get clean. Not to move. Not to eat. None of the trivial things she took for granted.

Her teeth dug into the side of her cheeks. She pulled her chair to her side and picked up the fork, and skewered a large chunk of scrambled egg with it.

“Open your mouth.”

Kyoko obeyed. She put the food in. The tungs of the fork scrapped lightly against her lips when she extracted it.

“Chew, and then swallow.”

Kyoko obeyed again.

This was not the first time Sayaka fed Kyoko, but it was the first time Kyoko showed no joy from the food or from the action itself. She simply obeyed Sayaka’s commands. Like a machine.

And so they sat within arm’s length, and she was still on the verge of losing her.

 

* * *

 

Sayaka wept again when she was doing the dishes, the running faucet drowning out her quiet sobs.

Kyoko probably wouldn’t care even if she heard - in her current state, anyway - but Sayaka refused to acknowledge that. Her grief being hidden away was better than being known and ignored.

She stayed far longer than necessary by any standard in the kitchen, letting the water flow. When she was done, she was forcing herself to think about the utility bill in the coming month. Not that she actually saw one in the one and half month Kyoko lived here, or any previous times she visited the place.

Kyoko laid on the floor, gazing at the ceiling. Sayaka was unsure whether she was actually looking at anything in particular. She sat down next to her.

The dull eyes reminded her of the few timelines when Kyoko  _ had _ died. Her death was usually sudden and violent. Usually caught between emerging surprise and whatever was there a moment ago. A scowl. A smirk. A wail.

“Kyoko?” She laid a hand on her left, touching the ring. “How is your Soul Gem?”

Kyoko continued looking at the ceiling.

Sayaka sighed and fumbled around a little to find the pouch of Grief Cubes she had taken out last night. It had been kicked below the couch at some point. She scooped it out and loosened the neck and said again to Kyoko .

“Show it to me.”

Kyoko complied.

And Sayaka’s heart almost dropped out of her chest.

It was not the crimson she was accustomed to, a color that she considered to represent Kyoko’s spirit quite accurately. Nor was it the maroon of dried blood that she had seen when Kyoko exerted herself or lost to despair. In fact, it was not any color. The gem looked empty.

But it was not. After she overcame the initial panic and looked a little closer, she could see some unscrupulous smear floating up and down like a shaken snow globe. That was, if the porcelain flitter was replaced by pallets of glass.

She did not know what it meant. Not for sure. All kinds of theories competed in her head as she pulled out three cubes. She forced herself to focus on them, even if she could not tell whether they did anything as she laid them next to Kyoko’s Soul Gem.

After a few minutes, she picked them up and, after brief hesitation, threw them into the air. Two of the cubes hit the floor next to her, and one disappeared.

Sayaka went to collect the two cubes. She kept Kyoko in her field of vision, watching her intently for any sign of trouble. The Incubator was here. She had suspected that, and the throw just confirmed it.

Nothing happened. Kyoko barely even blinked.

They stayed like that for the good part of the morning, in oppressing silence. Sayaka dozed off at some point, leaning against Kyoko and gripping her unresponsive hands. Her dream was filled with washed-out colors.

“My father was right.” The Kyoko in her dream said, bathed in shadow cast by the golden beam of Madoka’s power. Her smile was the last shooting star before dawn. “I never understood what he was trying to say. In the end, I made a wish not for him but for myself. I only  _ thought _ I did it for him. Just like how I  _ thought _ I’m doing this for you.”

And she was fading away, slipping between her fingers like sand in an hourglass. “I don’t understand.”

She kissed her forehead.

“You don’t have to.” She must be smiling. Kyoko always smiled at her, cheerfully, teasingly, bitterly, or gently. She always smiled. “You see, that’s the beauty of the hollowness I weave. There’s nothing to understand about it.”

The beam shot through the universe, cutting open a crack that divided illusions and realities.

“幸せだ。”

And the dream shattered.

Sayaka sat up straight with pounding heart and barely contained hysteria, to the sight of Kyoko - Kyoko in this new world, devoid of any previous memories - standing up beside her, already in her Puella Magi outfit.

She reached out and grabbed her instinctively. The memory of the current timeline and the realization Kyoko was going out hunting came moments later.

“Please.” She begged. “Don’t go.”

“It’s my purpose.”

“You have enough Grief Cubes stocked up.”

“That’s irrelevant.”

She talked like the Incubator. Sayaka thought bitterly. Was that what they made Puella Magi to be now? One of them?

“Then at least- at least let me call Mami-san for backup.”

“That’s not necessary.”

Kyoko did not even have to try to struggle out of Sayaka’s grip. The gap between their powers was hilariously vast. If Kyoko set her mind to it, she could have abandoned or get rid of her any time, in any of those timelines. Sayaka realized. She didn’t because… because…

She wished this discovery came to light under a different circumstance.

“Wait.”

Kyoko halted, momentarily, and looked back.

Was she curious about what Sayaka was going to say? Or was she simply obeying another instruction? What even dictate whether she was going to obey it or not?

“Can you- can you promise something before we go?”

“That depends.”

Sayaka stood up herself, and grabbed her wrist again. “I want you to promise me-” Her eyes were two pools of dead water. She squeezed down. “Can you promise me you will stay alive?”

“No.” She said without a second thought.

Sayaka was prepared. She glared with unyielding fury, a direct challenge. “And why is that?” Her voice shook despite her resolve, and she wondered what was the point.

Kyoko simply looked back at her like she should know.

 

* * *

 

Kyoko went off to the hunt anyway, and Sayaka followed. She had a feeling this would go badly, so she sent a text message to Mami. Seconds later, Mami returned five words.

_ Be right there. Keep safe. _

It was a relief to know she had backup. But even an entire army would mean nothing if it did not arrive on time, so Sayaka tried her best to stall.

It went about as well as holding back a hound on hunting frenzy without a leash.

Before Mami could reach them, Kyoko zoned in on a group of Wraiths and leapt into battle. And it was worse than Sayaka initially imagined.

Kyoko fought differently. That was the first thing she noticed. She was still precise and deadly, but the way she moved was off. She used to favor gorilla tactics on stronger opponents or multiple enemies, always keeping out of their reach and dealing devastating damages at a safe distance. Now she just charged like a blind bull.

The second, more disturbing discovery followed moments later, when blood sprayed from a wound that nearly sheared off her left arm.

Sayaka watched in horrified shock as Kyoko, seemingly unaware of her injury, continued on her trajectory. She made no attempt to dodge as more and more wounds materialized on her body.

It was like she could not feel the pain. It was like she did not care about it. It…

Kyoko continued cutting down her opponents methodically and efficiently. The battle concluded within minutes.

Sayaka rushed to her side before the last hint of corruption completely evaporated. She arrived just in time of Kyoko detransforming. She was bleeding all over. Not nearly as bad as the night before, but still conspicuous.

She crashed into her from the back, wrapping her arms around her waist and burying her face into her shoulder. Kyoko stood stock still, while she herself was shaking.

“Why didn’t you dodge?!” Her voice cracked. “Why did you let yourself get injured?!”

Kyoko did not answer for a long time. So long that Sayaka thought she was just going to ignore her again. Then, finally, she responded.

“I don’t feel a need to.”

Sayaka didn’t cry. She told herself she wouldn’t cry.

But tears still soaked through Kyoko’s back.

 

* * *

 

Mami found them soon after. She did what she could to close Kyoko’s wounds without a word, cleansing her Soul Gem every so often. Her expression was calm through the procedure, but Sayaka could tell she was furious.

They supported Kyoko back to the apartment and sat her down on the couch. Mami took a seat by the dining table. Sayaka took the other, and did not ask whether her senior should be going back to school.

“Kyuubey.” Mami said suddenly. “Are you around?”

And the alien must be, for Mami suddenly glared to the couch with cold anger. The bitter resentment in her eyes comforted Sayaka, as strange as it may seem.

“Why does Sakura-san still go out to hunt, if she has lost her emotion?” Mami did not greet the alien, cutting straight to the chase. “Surely it counts as desire?”

The Incubator seemed to launch into a lengthy explanation, for Mami did not speak for a long time.

Sayaka kept quiet, watching with growing dread as her senior’s expression grew darker still.

Mami shook with indignation. “Programming? Have you made us into mere machines?”

Sayaka winced. Back in the timelines before Madoka’s intervention, the Incubators made Puella Magi into corpses that eventually turned into monsters. It was not so farfetched for them to turn girls into machines for war, she supposed. It still sickened her.

“Well, if that is the case, you should be trying to help us instead of speaking riddles.” Mami huffed. “See how many injuries she sustained in just one fight!”

Kyoko’s eyes fluttered shut. She showed no signs of being tired on the way back, but her body evidently disagreed.

“Of course it matters! If you want us to be efficient at hunting Wraiths, we should be avoiding injuries instead of jumping into the Wraith’s claws!”

Sayaka thought of the transparent Soul Gem that morning. She wondered whether she should mention it to Mami, and whether to do it in front of or behind the Incubator’s back.

“What do you mean I’m wrong?” Mami demanded. “What do you mean-”

She stopped abruptly.

Sayaka tensed. She did not know what Mami just realized, but it was definitely bad. Her senior sat with her back straight and posture stiff. Her expression morphed from rage to surprise and finally to detachment.

“Yes.” She murmured softly. “Yes, I see now.”

She got up and smoothed the creases on her skirt.

“Leave us.”

Four months had passed since Sayaka first saw this outfit, and she still couldn’t quite get over it. That was not to say the grey wool jacket and cream-colored vest did not suit the blond senior, for Mami filled the uniform like the designer used picked her as their muse. It also helped that she had curves any young woman would be proud of.

Most likely, it was the symbolism of it that irked Sayaka. Time passed in idle waiting. Uncertain future she did not want to face. Things set in stone they were powerless to stop. 

Mami turned to her, with lingering anger in her eyes and a tired smile.

“Miki-san,” she called gently, and Sayaka stood at attention. “If you do not mind, I want to bring Yuma-chan over this evening. Is that alright with you?”

“I-” Sayaka glanced to the couch. Kyoko was still asleep. “What did Kyuubey say?”

“Aside from more unreasonable fineprints he failed to disclose before contracting?” She caught her bitterness and cleared her throat, a bit sheepishly. “I am afraid he was as unhelpful as ever.”

Sayaka nodded mutely. It was disappointing, but not unexpected.

“So? May I bring her over this evening?”

“Kyuubey did say she was the reason Kyoko got better last time.” Sayaka shuffled uncomfortably. “But is it really a good idea? I think Kyoko wouldn’t want her to see her like this.”

“I agree, but it is not like we have many options.”

Sayaka remained hesitant.

“It is our best bet. Leaving Sakura-san in her current state is… problematic. If her pride being hurt will prevent her being dead, well…” Mami sighed. “I am sorry. It is insensitive.”

“No, no. You’re right, Mami-san. We have to do everything we can.”

Mami smiled, and began walking to the entrance. “Who knows? Maybe Yuma-chan will be able to shake Sakura-san back to her senses. She must realize how many people love her and need her, right?”

Sayaka did not share her enthusiasm, but nodded nevertheless. She bowed as Mami exited.

After the door clicked shut, she returned to the couch.

The cushions shifted under her weight. Kyoko did not stir, not even when she rested her head on her shoulder. They were in the same position as that day on the bus to Kazamino, except for her heavy heart, weighed down by concern instead of soaring with tender joy.

She still remembered the pink creeping up Kyoko’s ears during the ride, as she busily pretended she was watching the scenery. Her hand not gripping back but not pulling away either.

Kyoko was always a bit of an idiot in the times they knew each other. Not that she was dense, but her sensitivity was often riveted to the wrong thing. Maybe her experience molded her into the cautious cynic she was today. Made she believed happiness was something more difficult to obtain than it actually was, maybe she believed they did not exist in the first place.

But Sayaka could see it clearly. She could picture it in her mind, happiness enough for two. An earnest smile, a warm embrace, a simple meal. What more was there to need?

She indulged herself in the fantasy for a while, not fully awake to the predicament of reality but not completely lost in illusions. She was so close to it that she thought if she reached out, she might touch those visions.

The whole world silenced, even the daylight yielded for them. Or perhaps it was the apartment that shielded the two from any disturbance.

The sweet reverie was only broken when there was another knock on the door. Sayaka’s eyes flew open. The clock on her phone read 5:22 p.m. Three hours had slipped by.

Sayaka scrambled to the door, limbs still heavy.

“Sorry, Mami-san.” She hurriedly opened the door. “I think I fell aslee-”

She did a double-take when she saw Nagisa and Yuma, before she remembered her conversation with Mami earlier.

“It was a hard day.” Mami let the children in first. “I hope it was not a rude awakening, at least?”

“No. Not at all. Hi, Nagisa-chan, Yuma-chan.”

Unlike Nagisa, who had already kicked her shoes and was bouncing towards the kitchen, Yuma hovered near the door.

“Is it okay for me to be here?”

“Of course!” Mami encouraged, looking to Sayaka. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

Sayaka nodded in support, but found her smile forced.

“Kyoko is just… a bit sick. But we will help her. Okay?”

Yuma nodded and sat down to take off her shoes. Sayaka looked to Mami, who only nodded.

This was their best bet.

She led the guests into the living room. Nagisa had produced a plate and some cheesecake and was now sitting by the dining table, watching Kyoko sleep. When Sayaka entered, she shot a questioning glance her way.

Sayaka shook her head.

She turned to Kyoko. The redhead still had her eyes closed, but there was no telling whether she was actually asleep. Yuma halted a few feet away from the couch and would not budge another inch.

So Sayaka went up and shook her shoulders gently.

“Kyoko, wake up.”

Kyoko’s eyes snapped open, looking through her. She resisted the urge to flinch and instead pointed back behind her shoulders.

“We have guests.”

Kyoko stared at her as if processing her words. A few seconds later she followed Sayaka’s gesture, her head turning like a rusty oscillating fan.

Her gaze fell on Mami first, unrecognizing. Then, it shifted to Yuma.

And her face contorted in pain.

Kyoko emitted an inhuman howl. Her arm unintentionally connected with Sayaka’s side, nearly knocking her over as she sprung up. Sayaka righted herself in the last moment, unprepared for the outburst. She was confused at first, until she saw Kyoko collapsing to the floor, spasming uncontrollably.

She dropped to her knees in an instant. “Wha- what’s wrong?” Her hands hung in midair, unsure whether it would be alright to touch her. “Kyoko, are you hurting? Talk to me!”

But Kyoko did not respond. She did not even seem to hear Sayaka. Her eyes rolled back into her skull as she bit down  _ hard _ on her lip. She was chewing right through to her jaw.

“Here.”

Mami appeared on their side and, with a blast of magic, knocked Kyoko out cold.

With the abrupt end of the howl, the apartment fell into silence. Sayaka wanted to speak, wanted to demand answers from somebody, but she seemed to have lost her voice.

Mami took it upon herself to lift Kyoko off the floor. She did not lay her back to the couch, but instead carried her to the bed by the window.

Yuma stood petrified where she was. Nagisa froze in the process of putting a forkful of cake in her mouth.

It was when Mami turned back to her Sayaka found her voice again.

“What was that?”

“I’m not sure.” Mami shook her head grimly. “Kyuubey told me earlier that… I thought…” She trailed off, shaking her head. “It will be better to ask the expert.”

Yuma let out a small yelp behind. Sayaka turned, and saw the girl looking at something by her feet.

The Incubator, no doubt.

“You know what is going on?” Mami asked. “Why didn’t it work?”

Sayaka tried to imagine what the alien was saying, to no avail. She was still in shock over Kyoko’s outburst. That couldn’t be normal, and couldn’t bode well.

And even though she could not hear what the Incubator said, Mami’s and now Yuma’s expressions told her her instinct was spot on. Yuma was trembling. And Mami looked fiercely protective, though it wasn’t clear to whom.

“Don’t you dare use this opportunity to scam her into contracting.” Mami said.

And a pause.

“Of course it was a scam! If I had known-”

She stopped herself and looked over to Nagisa, with fleeting shame and guilt.

Sayaka could fill in the missing words without much effort. She was not surprised to hear Mami speak of preferring death over contracting, but she still grimaced at the thought. As messed up as it was, if Mami had not contracted and therefore died in that car accident, they would not get to meet her. They would not get to repay her for her kindness.

And to Nagisa, it was even more personal. In this world, it was Mami who fulfilled her wish instead of the Incubator. Mami gave her a family. A reason to not give up.

But Nagisa just looked back at Mami with an understanding, albeit lonely smile. In that one look she conveyed all she needed to.

Sayaka could not imagine how much it would hurt if Kyoko said those words to her.

Maybe that would have been a kind of happiness to Kyoko, to not betray and not be betrayed by her father. Maybe death by starvation would have been the least evil  option. But if it meant they would never meet, if it meant she would never find her, could Sayaka really accept that? Could she just let her go?

_ But I decided this time around it won’t be about me. _ She closed her fists.  _ I vowed to just stay by her side. _

Because it never ended well when they were anything other than friends. As enemies they killed each other, and when Sayaka foolishly allowed herself to be drawn to Kyoko, she had betrayed all of them to save her.

What they had, before this incident, was good. More than good.

And now Sayaka was realizing she was just lying to herself.

Mami moved to Yuma’s side and wrapped her in a tight hug. “Yuma-chan. Don’t listen to a word he said.”

“But I- but I- Kyuubey said it’s my fault Kyoko’s like this.”

“And I say it is not. Which one of us do you trust more?”

Yuma hesitated. “Mami-neechan…” She returned the hug, her voice disappearing into the fabric of Mami’s uniform.

“That is what I like to hear.”

Mami looked over to Sayaka. “He did not tell us much. Nothing really useful anyway.” She said apologetically. “Earlier, he told me Yuma-chan here helped Sakura-san last time this happened, without Yuma really knowing it.” She rubbed the girl’s head affectionately. “That was why I brought them. However, things are a little more complicated this time.”

“Complicated?”

Mami paused in an effort to search for the most appropriate words. But Yuma did not much care for tact.

“It’s me.” Her voice drifted muffledly from Mami’s chest. “Kyuubey said I hurt Kyoko.”

Mami sighed. “That is not true. Well, not completely true, even with what he said.” She squeezed a little tighter as she addressed Sayaka. “When she left four years ago, I was part of her grief. Yuma-chan represented a chance for salvation. But this time around…”

“Both.” Sayaka murmured to herself. It made sense. Kyoko had come so close to losing Yuma to the Wraiths. It must have reminded her of how she lost her little sister. “Grief  _ and _ salvation.”

She winced when she noticed Yuma holding tighter onto Mami, shoulders shaking as she sobbed into Mami’s embrace. It was insensitive of her to say such thing.

To amend that, she shuffled close to the child’s side, and put a hand to steady her. Yuma turned to her, face messy with tears.

“Under no circumstance should you think it’s your fault, Yuma-chan.” Sayaka said as tenderly as she could. “No one is to be blamed. Well, aside from Kyuubey.”

Yuma did not look convinced.

“And you have helped her once, remember?” Mami chimed in. “I have faith we can do it again. All of us. Even someone as stubborn as Sakura-san cannt sulk forever if we all put our minds to it, hm?”

Yuma looked between them, before she finally smiled.

“Kyoko’s really bad at talking about it sometimes.”

“Yeah.” Sayaka whispered. “Yeah she is.”

“Well, in that case.” Nagisa piped up. She had devoured the cheesecake at some point and was now swinging her legs back and forth energetically. “Maybe it'll be best to keep things how they are now.”

“I agree.” Mami nodded. “I think the source of the problem was Sakura-san’s past. In that light… only the two of you are new elements.” She paused. “Well, relatively speaking.”

Sayaka cinged back. She looked inquisitively to Mami, who smiled calmly, betraying nothing.

“And given your ties with Kyoko,” Nagisa continued for her. “You are her best chance.”

Sayaka swallowed.

She couldn’t deny the pride swelling with their confidence in her. Nor the sweetness from being acknowledged as the one closest to Kyoko. But she also felt ashamed for finding satisfaction in them.

“I will do what I can.” She forced some humbleness into her stiff words.

_ If anyone can, it’s you, Sayaka-chan. _ She heard Madoka say. Whether it was a memory or she was really with her was up to debate.  _ Kyoko-chan treasures you. _

She looked up to the ceiling, unsure what she should feel.

 

* * *

 

She was once again alone in the apartment with a sleeping Kyoko. It did not seem like the girl would wake up anytime soon. Sayaka sat with her back against the bed, hugging her knees.

Memories from Homura’s world kept playing in her mind, no matter how many times she told it to shut up. Maybe it was Homura’s influence. And if it was, Sayaka had no way of telling her to stop.

She was conflicted. Not in what she should do now, but in what to do after.

Kyoko’s last goodbye cut her deeper than any wounds she ever suffered.

“Ne, Kyoko.” She said to her knees. “What is it you’re afraid of, exactly?”

Past, present, and future. Kyoko was always brave, always charging into battles head-on. But it was not because she was fearless.

“Are you afraid you can’t protect those important to you, like I do?”

Sayaka never figured out what exactly compelled her to fight so fiercely. It was not death. Could not be. Because she had seen Kyoko throwing her live away without a second thought.

“Seeing you like this… it’s unbearable.” She sighed. “You always hid what you’re really thinking.” She couldn’t help the pout pushing its way past. “…never said all the important things until almost too late.”

Like that time immediately after Madoka recreated the world. Kyoko was too clumsy with her words and actions, and Sayaka was too engulfed in the misery that trapped her times and again to notice her concern. It still pained her to remember the only spar she won against Kyoko, and it was because Kyoko was too worried about the state of her Soul Gem to fight.

She was such an idiot.

“It was partly my fault too for never listening. But I'm here now.” She hugged her knees tighter”…you probably won't believe it, but you did save  _ me _ . So let me… let me do the same for you, okay?”

They were both idiots, weren’t they?

“It's lonely to be by yourself. You said that. Do you remember?” She sucked in a deep breath. Her thoughts were a spectacular mess. “Probably not. But still, it doesn’t change how I feel. I should have noticed it sooner. I should have accepted your hand.”

There were so much she wanted to tell her. So much she wanted to convey. She did not know where to begin, for it seemed there was no beginning or end to the softness whenever she looked to her face.

“I can’t change what’s already happened, but I can decide where I go from now on… so I'll follow you, anywhere.”

She jumped at the small grunt from the bed. Embarrassment took hold for a moment, before she steeled herself. She had always waited, for a boy she gave up her life to notice her feeling, for Homura to reveal her true intention, for Kyoko to show up in her life like she had done in all those times loop. For a lot of things.

And now, maybe she did not want to wait.

She propped herself up to look.

Instead of the dull red eyes staring unseeing through her, she was greeted with a frown and shut eyes. Kyoko was still asleep.

And she had tears streaming down her face.

Okay, so maybe she still have to wait, but perhaps not for long.

She climbed into the bed and wrapped her arms around the redhead, chuckling slightly.

“You know, we didn't leave a very good first impression of the apartment to Yuma.” She whispered in her ears. “So wake up soon and let's fix that, okay?”

She sincerely hoped those words would reach Kyoko.


	17. Chapter 17

After she found Kyoko, there were nights where Sayaka would lay awake and imagine their life forward.

Her thoughts seldom had any pattern. Some nights she pictured them walking on the path to school, chasing after each other for snacks or unfinished homework or simply for the sake of it. Some nights she saw bright neon lights reflecting on snow-banks, of clasped hands and overlapping shadows.

Some nights she thought about yukata, firework, and festivals. She thought about the heat and the sweet taste of candied apple and soft lips. Sleep was harder to find those nights.

With everything that happened, her vision was put on hold. She rarely had the luxury to let her thoughts wander anymore, always circling back to the anxiety that the next moment Kyoko would get up and set out for another hunt. The fantasy of a happy ending yielded to thousands different ways it could turn to another tragedy.

Days flew by. She used the excuse of studying to get away from her parents. Either they were too busy to care, trusted her judgement, or simply bought the alibi. It didn’t matter. They left her be for the most part, and that was all she wanted.

She would have felt sorry about lying to her family if she had the leisure. But the reality was she was too preoccupied worrying. Kyoko still went out hunting everyday, still fighting without regard to her own safety. Mami started joining them whenever she could and healed Kyoko as soon as the battle was over, but it did little to alleviate her distress.

Before she knew it, summer vacation came and went.

All those fantasies about going to festivals with Kyoko, of hot humid night, of firework and candied apple, slipped by without her permission.

She was frustrated by the passing of the opportunities, but the worst part about it all was the lack of progress. Kyoko remained largely unresponsive. Although there were some occasions where she seemed to gain focus on her surrounding, or recognize something one of them said, but those instances were few and far between, and nothing really came out of them.

At this rate, there was a very real possibility that nothing in her vision would ever become reality.

Sayaka knew she was racing against time, and perhaps fate. She didn’t know whether she had any chance to win at all.

Sayaka flew up the stairs leading to the roof of Mitakihara Junior High.

It was the Friday after school started. Most students had already left, eager to grasp the fading freedom of summer vacation. Those with club activities still hung around, but even they were not averse to relaxing a little and discussing their plan for the weekend.

As for Sayaka, weekend held a different meaning. They were days when she could keep an eye on Kyoko constantly, without fearing she would venture too far away to a place she could not follow.

When the door opened, she was greeted by orange sky and tiles gilded by the last ray of the day. She climbed up the maintenance ladder only technicians were supposed to use, to the platform that would allow her to behold the sport field below and the winding paths leading to the city center.

Kyoko was still there, hands folded below her head.

Sayaka sighed in relief and scooted to her side, taking extra care that nobody on ground-level would spot her even if they chanced to look up. She trailed her finger on a new scar on Kyoko’s face.

“I told you not to go without letting me know.” She complained. “Dummy.”

They had worked out a routine. In the morning, they would wake up early and sneak Kyoko to school. She was to stay hidden from everyone else until after school. Between classes and during lunch break, Sayaka would come up here to check on her.

The first day went well. That is, until the first recess after lunch.

Sayaka nearly had a heart attack when she realized Kyoko was gone. Her first instinct was to find Kyoko, but soon realized she had no idea where to even begin. She waited anxiously on the roof, pacing back and forth as she struggled to come up with a plan through the growing panic.

Just before she called Mami for help, Kyoko landed next to her without warning. Sporting several cuts that were not there half an hour ago, she was unapologetic.

There was little Sayaka could do aside from lashing out with worry. She scolded and reiterated the importance of Kyoko staying put, before hurrying back to class. Her math teacher lectured her for about ten minutes.

The next time it happened, Sayaka just waited.

That evening, she visited a local pharmacy, and had kept her purchase close by ever since.

Presently, she wet a cotton ball with disinfectant and dabbed it against the cut, before she fished out a bandaid and fixed it on the wound. It was not deep, and already stopped bleeding under the influence of magic.

To be honest, Sayaka wasn’t even sure whether Puella Magi could get infected. She never had to worry about it herself because of her ability, but Kyoko’s regeneration had always been lackluster, and Sayaka would rather not take any chances.

“Show me your other injuries.” She whispered.

As expected, Kyoko was not asleep. She opened her eyes and sat up, taking off her jacket to reveal arms marred by wounds shining with angry red. Sayaka cleaned them carefully before applying bandages around.

She noted the few deep cuts from previous battles still healing. The flesh was pink and raw to the touch. Perhaps another few days would be needed before they were completely gone.

This added to the amount of trouble they would get into if they ever get caught. Smuggling an outsider into school ground without permission was already a serious offense in the eye of the school. Having said intruder covered in barely healing injuries only added to the stake. Expulsion would be a certainty, and police and social workers would likely also get involved.

And they almost got caught. Twice already in the past five days.

What would she do when someone found out? Another fellow student she might be able to convince to keep this secret, but what if it was a teacher? Would they try to take Kyoko away? What could Sayaka even say to explain Kyoko’s condition?

She realized she did not really care. Being expelled from the school or being disowned by her parents (though she doubted it would come to that), as long as the two of them could stay together, she would be fine with it.

But then again, every young person had that belief at one point in their life.

When she was done, she draped the jacket back on Kyoko.

“We should get going soon. Mami-san invited us over for dinner today.”

Of course she had to consider reality, especially when money was involved. The past two months, they got by on a combination of her own savings, the weekly allowances her parents left her for food, and Mami’s generosity. But it was not sustainable.

With Kyoko’s current condition, Mami and Sayaka had to apologize to the store owner who employed Kyoko on her behalf. They told her Kyoko had fallen ill, but kept the details vague.

The elderly woman was gracious about it. She did not seem the least troubled by the sudden resignation or the rudeness of Kyoko relaying the news over a third-party. She was more concerned about her young employee’s wellbeing.

She asked about Kyoko every time she bumped into Mami and Sayaka on the street, always giving them snacks or juices to bring to Kyoko. Once she even brought up the idea of visiting, but she must have realized it inconvenienced them, for she never mentioned it again.

She still asked about Kyoko though.

When they climbed off the roof, the sun had dipped behind the highrises. The sports teams were cleaning up below, stacking away their equipment between easy chatters.

Sayaka felt her phone vibrating in her pocket. It was a text message from her parents. They weren’t coming home for the weekend.

Sayaka sighed. She wouldn’t have to bother Mami to watch over Kyoko then.

She stayed at the apartment almost everyday now, unless her parents were home. Whenever that happened, Mami would bring Yuma and Nagisa over to watch Kyoko.

The first few times Mami had to put Kyoko out almost every time she woke up, but after a while, Kyoko’s reaction to them grew less severe.

Still, Sayaka wanted to avoid it entirely if it could be helped.

On the other hand, although she was relieved by her parents being away, she also felt slightly guilty about it.

It was nothing new. Her parents only got busier with each passing year. They usually came home well past her bedtime and left for work again few hours later.

In the past year, the company started sending them off to meet customers in other cities and sometimes other countries. They were reluctant to leave their daughter at first, but Sayaka showed them she could take care of herself. At that time, she was half hoping she would have more freedom to search for Kyoko, but the other half of her wanted to make up to her parents for all the previous timelines she died.

Her parents did not deserve to be called negligent for her stupidity. They were loving, and always tried their best to provide for her. Ever since she was a child, whatever she asked, her parents would give.

They worked hard for her, climbing higher and higher in the corporate ladder even though their positions no longer suited their abilities. Still they tried their best to give her a good life.

Sometimes she wondered what they would think if they knew what she had been up to all along.

“Maybe I should bring you to see my parents someday.” She muttered as she fixed Kyoko’s jacket. “Well, after you get better.”

She hoped they would approve. Because this person was the one she chose.

Kyoko’s gaze seemed to flicker for a moment at the mention of family, but she said nothing still. It may have just been the glow of sunset caught in her eyes.

Sayaka took her hands, squeezing down with a smile.

“You took me to see yours, after all.”

 

* * *

 

“Kyoko?”

They stood before the elevator on the hallway leading to Mami’s apartment. Kyoko had followed without a word all the way, like she usually did, but now she halted without any prompt.

Sayaka turned back to her, head tilted slightly in confusion. “What’s wrong?”

Kyoko stood motionless, looking out of the balcony as if she heard someone calling. Dusk fell on her face like golden swords. Something flashed in her dull hazy eyes, like the remnant of the summer firework they had yet the chance to see.

It was the first time Sayaka saw this particular scene, and it was because this was the first time they visited since Kyoko’s accident. Why did she stop? Could she still harbor some contempt at being forced into Mami’s life after all these years? Sayaka had always believed bringing her back was a good thing, to strive for reconciliation, but what if she was wrong?

The only emotion they were able to invoke in Kyoko thus far had been pain. Maybe it was the only way to break her out of her trance, but Sayaka still was reluctant to see Kyoko hurt for any reason.

“Come on.” She reached out a hand. “It’s gonna be alright. I’m here.”

Kyoko turned back to look at the offered hand. Of course, she did not take it.

So Sayaka walked up and pulled her into a hug. “I won’t leave you to suffer alone.”

Kyoko did not reply, but her feet moved when Sayaka tugged her forward. The glimmer of whatever going through her mind faded into the same unfocused red.

Mami was waiting for them with a table full of delicious dishes and ice cream cake (Nagisa told them that when she tried to hurry them to finish the main course).

As with the weeks before, Kyoko showed no desire to eat. Sayaka had got into the habit of spoon-feeding her, so she did not think twice before she picked up Kyoko’s utensil and held a mouthful of creamy mushroom soup to her lips.

She only became aware when she heard snickers from the other side of the table.

Nagisa and Yuma were trying very hard and failing to suppress their giggles. Even Mami smiled with a knowing glimmer in her eyes.

Sayaka felt her face warm up considerably.

She made a mental note to get back at Kyoko for making her go through such embarrassing ordeal later, and continued feeding her until all the plates and bowls were cleaned out.

“Mami, can I have the ice cream cake now?”

“In a bit.” Mami patted Nagisa. “Let the food settle for a bit, okay? Why don’t you and Nagisa go play for a while?”

Nagisa pouted but bounded to the large flat screen TV with Yuma in tow. Sayaka noted the amount of game CD cases seemed to have increased since the last time she was here.

“Mami-san is spoiling Nagisa-chan a little.” She joked.

“I suppose I am.” Mami chuckled. “Although it is difficult not to, especially when it is someone you hold dear. Isn’t that right, Miki-san?”

The heat on her cheeks returned.

Nagisa and Yuma had booted up one of the fighting game. They were bickering over whose character was stronger.

“Although in that light, I must apologize for asking you here.”

“Why? There’s nothing wrong with it.”

Mami shook her head. “No, there is. Or at least I anticipated there would be. Tell me - did Sakura-san react at all on your way here?”

Sayaka shifted. “I don’t know if it’s a reaction. And even if it is maybe it’s not a bad one.”

In their brief silence, the game yelled out “round one!” in the background.

Mami smiled again to show it was okay. “Like I said, I expected it. Rather, I’d be surprised if she didn’t resist coming to see me again.”

“Mami-san…”

“But that’s not why I invited you here.” She turned solemn. “With the new semester starting, I think it’s past time we try something different.”

“Like…?”

She could hear the children mashing on the buttons on their controllers. The rapid tapping echoed her accelerating pulses.

“It might hurt her.” Mami said. “But if there is even a chance to bring her back, I want to take that risk.”

Yuma’s character threw a combo, which was evaded by Nagisa’s easily.

“We have been keeping her indoors all summer, except for the time when she went out to hunt. Maybe she should be exposed to daylight, to people, to life.”

“But…”

“It will not be anything too involving. I promise. I just think… Sunday morning, I will bring the children to the nearby park. Will you join us?”

Sayaka looked to Kyoko, who was staring at the TV with what could be mistaken as tranquility. She looked to Yuma, who pretending to focus on the game while she pressed mindlessly on the same button. Her character kept throwing punches at nothing. And to Nagisa, who glanced back to her with a nod, as if saying ‘this is what you've been fighting for.’

Then, she finally looked back to Mami.

Mami was right. Sayaka had only been avoiding it because she was afraid things would only get worse and not better. But of course, although not taking chances meant no further harm could be done, it also guaranteed no progress could be made.

She took a deep breath.

“Even if it hurt her,” her voice shook slightly, but her determination did not waver. “I will make sure she heals.”

 


	18. Chapter 18

The heat of summer lingered about the city, along with vivid noises and loud colors that refused to yield to the new season. People still dressed in shorts and oversized tops and joviality, as if ignoring the departure of days where they were free to spend on a beach could somehow prolong the vacation for another week.

“It is nice out, don’t you agree? Miki-san.”

“Huh? Ah- yes. I suppose so.”

They were sitting on a bench facing the playground, with Mami on the right, Sayaka in the middle, and Kyoko to the left.

The park was small compared to the one near Sayaka’s home, but fully equipped to entertain young families coming to spend quality time together. See-saws, slides, monkey bars, geodesic domes, and the swingset which currently occupied Yuma and Nagisa’s attention.

“How is school? The last semester in junior high is particularly grueling.”

Sayaka shrugged. “It’s going alright, I guess.”

Actually, it was starting to drive her up the wall. With all her memories from the previous timelines, Sayaka was able to gain that extra edge over her classmates the previous school year. She still felt somewhat guilty because it was pretty much cheating.

This school year, however, was much more challenging. They were diving into unknown territory, and Sayaka found it harder and harder to keep ahead. She was never the sharpest tool in the shed to begin with.

On top of that, she did not exactly have the leisure to focus on schoolwork for the past two months. She was quite certain all her classmates who cared about advancing in their academic future had already caught up ,or perhaps surpassed her, over the summer.

Not that she cared.

“Are you alright? You seem a little… tired.”

Sayaka gave a wry smile. That was an understatement.

She did not get much rest last night at all. Mami’s words adhered themselves into her subconscious, moving her with great trepidation for the entirety of Saturday. Whenever she started drifting off, an unexplained dread would jolt her awake, with pounding heart and face drenched in cold sweat.

Moreover, today had begun with the unwelcomed nagging of alarm clock and a slight chill. The beginning of autumn crept in during the night through windows she neglected to close. She had been feeling a sneeze sneaking up the whole morning.

“Nothing to worry about.” She waved dismissively. “Just not used to getting up on the weekends.”

Mami smiled. “Ah, I can imagine. Did Sakura-san sleep in as well?”

“I can’t even tell with her now.” She paused, before adding quickly. “But then again she sleeps whenever she wants, anyway.”

They shared a chuckle, though both glanced towards the object of their amusement. Half hopeful.

Kyoko sat silent as a statue, eyes locked on the playground ahead.

Sayaka sighed inwardly. She should know it would not be that easy.

“I want to thank you, Miki-san.”

She blinked and turned back to Mami. “Huh?” Her senior still had the soft smile that had been her defining characteristics ever since Sayaka knew her, but her expression was serious. “What for?”

“For taking care of Sakura-san.” Mami turned fully to her, and bowed her head. “For being there for her. For being with her. So thank you, Miki-san.”

Sayaka felt her cheeks heating up. She stole another glance at Kyoko, still nothing.

“It’s- it’s nothing.” She squealed a little.

Normally she would have just laughed it off, but now she was just getting nervous for no reason. Why was she getting nervous? It’s not like Kyoko was paying attention.

“I mean I like being with-”

She wasn’t, right?

“No I mean I am happy to-”

Because if this was how it was going down she would be really pissed.

“No I mean! I mean!”

Mami chuckled, and Sayaka buried her face in her hands to stop herself from rambling further. What was she getting all worked up over? This was not a confession. It would not propel their relationship forward.

But… what were they now even? She was cooking for her. They were living together. Showering together. Sleeping-

_ It’s not like that! _ Sayaka shook her head strenuously.  _ Not yet any- _

Movement to her left interrupted her runaway train of thought. Sayaka snapped her head up to see Kyoko bolting from the bench.

Her first instinct was that Kyoko was fleeing from them again, as she had done many times before when confronted with uncomfortable quandary.

However she soon realized the error in her judgement. The same moment she remembered what condition Kyoko was in, she heard a tiny yelp ahead and saw Yuma falling from the swing.

Mami had noticed before her and was already standing up. Nagisa was reaching out from her swing to grab her friend but was coming up short.

And Kyoko, Kyoko dove.

There was a loud wham.

“Kyoko?!” Sayaka rushed to their side, outpacing Mami by a few steps. “Yuma-chan? Are you okay?”

Other parents heard the commotion and were flocking to them. Some went to secure their children on protective instinct. Some came to see what happened with evident curiosity. Several covered their mouth with a gasp. And Sayaka saw why.

Kyoko succeeded to cushion the impact for Yuma, but in her valiant attempt to rescue her, she had skinned her palms and knees badly. She was bleeding everywhere.

Some of the adults examined the swing, where one of the hangers fractured and caused Yuma to fall. They shook their heads in disapproval and called the city to report the incident. Some came up to Kyoko and Yuma worriedly, and asked if they were alright. A few even offered to drive them to the hospital to have the wounds checked.

But Kyoko did not hear any of their words.

She slowly sat up, crossed-legged (which were still bleeding profusely), and looked Yuma up and down.

_ Like she was making sure. _ Sayaka thought, slack-jawed. The significance of the event finally caught up to her.  _ Like she was… _

Then, Kyoko smiled.

 

* * *

 

They politely declined the kindness of the adults and took Kyoko back to Mami’s apartment. Kyoko frowned slightly on their way, like she was confused by their urgency and excitement.

Sayaka tried to calm herself. She knew she should not get her hopes up, but this latest development was more than anything they had accomplished over the past two months.

_ Mami-san was right. _ She thought to herself as they entered the apartment.  _ Mami-san was right. It did work. _

She was aware of the contrition on the back of her tongue. Perhaps later she would lament on how Kyoko’s condition improved more in one day than the two months she watched over her. But right now? Right now she was dizzy with relief. It was not hopeless. Though faint, she could see the light at the end of the tunnel.

“Wait.” Nagisa halted Mami when she took out her Soul Gem. “Mami, are you going to heal Kyoko right now?”

“Yes. Why?”

“A lot of people were there.” Nagisa tilted her head. “What if we bump into them later?”

It would be difficult to explain, no doubt.

Sayaka slapped her forehead lightly. She had not even considered that. The spectacle must have left a deep impression on the onlookers. Kyoko’s distinctive features not helping the matter at all. They could very well get spotted on the street, and it would be a nightmare to try to explain away why Kyoko had not even a scratch on her.

Mami came to the same conclusion as well, still giggling a little with excitement.

“Ah, yes. I suppose Sakura-san will have to wear her badges of valors for a while, then.” She ruffled Nagisa’s wavy hair affectionately. “Thank you for reminding us. I knew Nagisa is reliable.”

It was true. Although still a ten-year-old, Nagisa had always displayed exceptional sensitivity and observance. Even when they were still part of the Law of Cycles, sometimes Sayaka could not help but feel like the child in their relationship in front of the astute Nagisa.

Well, technically, she was  _ the _ junior, insofar as turning into a Witch go anyway. Maybe Nagisa soaked up more of Madoka’s infinite wisdom and benevolence.

“Miki-san, I will go get the first-aid kit. Would you mind?”

Sayaka nodded and led Kyoko to the bathroom to get cleaned up

Mami came through the door after a minute or so, and handed the white box to Sayaka.

“I’m going to check on Yuma-chan, and prepare some dessert.” She winked playfully before exiting the small space. “Take your time.”

The suggestive tone flustered Sayaka. She diverted her attention away by getting to work immediately.

Being somewhat accustomed by now to Kyoko showing up with cuts and bruises all over, her hands moved automatically, pouring disinfectant on a cotton ball and dabbing it on Kyoko’s injury. The whole process had become almost second-nature to her.

She was surprised when Kyoko flinched slightly at the contact.

Sayaka looked up, meeting Kyoko’s eyes.

They were still partially unfocused and dull, but they seemed to fall somewhere closer now. Not the universe beyond.

And even if Sayaka questioned her own perception, there was no mistaking the frown creased between her brows. She pressed the damp cotton ball on the raw skin of her right knee again, tentatively.

Kyoko hissed.

Sayaka was both stunned and elated.

She restrained herself from bursting out the door to tell Mami, no, the whole world, and continued cleaning up the wounds.

As strange as it was, she relished every small hiss and flinch from Kyoko. They were signals of hurt. Of injuries. But they soothed the agony that had plagued her for the past few months.

When they were finished, she took Kyoko’s hand and led her out to the living room.

The children were playing that same fighting game in front of the television. Mami was sitting on the couch, with a cup of steaming jasmine tea in front of her.

She must have noticed something, for she tilted her head slightly.

Sayaka took a deep breath.

“Mami-san.”

“Yes?”

“Kyoko- she flinched when I was cleaning her wounds.”

Mami smiled. “Ah.” She put down her cup. “At last.”

 

* * *

 

She was proud of her achievement - well, Mami’s achievement. She didn’t actually do anything. Washing the dirt out from Kyoko’s injuries and putting bandages over them were kind of  _ her _ things now, so they didn’t count.

Still, she couldn’t help the giddiness.

That same giddiness made her skip on their way back to the apartment, made her hum merrily when she was preparing dinner.

But it started fading away when the sun set west. When the splendor of the day gave way to the solemnity of the night.

When she shivered in the evening wind on their patrol, Kyoko halted beside her and opened her mouth. She did not end up speaking any word, though a frown was plastered on her face then and for the rest of their journey. It only abated once Sayaka gripped her hand and leaned closer.

She sent a text to Mami with her spare hand, to inform their senior of their whereabouts. Mami replied promptly with poorly concealed teasing.

Yet, reading the message, Sayaka’s heart grew heavy.

Something nagged her at the back of her mind. Something important. She could not make out what it was exactly, only that it was a warning she should heed. It was the same feeling one would have taking their first step into a swamp infested by crocodiles.

Kyoko found the first group of Wraiths for the night and pulled away from her grasp.

Sayaka watched her transform and summon her spear.

And she could not help but feel like they were walking right into the crocodile’s jaws.

The moment Kyoko leapt forward was the moment she realized she had made a terrible mistake. But by then it had been too late to recall Kyoko from her fight. Sayaka watched on, anxious. Her hands gripped onto the railing of the overpass in the abandoned factory.

And she found the source of her agitation. The meaning behind the nagging warnings.

Kyoko charged into the enemies like she normally did. Her spear swung in wide arcs, cutting down monsters Sayaka could no longer see. A few small gashes appeared on her arms and legs, just like how the hunt usually went.

But this time that was where the similarities stopped.

Instead of charging back in again like a mindless machine, Kyoko flinched from her wounds. Another gash appeared on her right thigh after she brought her spear up. She flinched again, and seemed to hesitate on what she ought to do next.

Sayaka did not wait to see the result of the hesitation. She ran for the stairs leading to the battleground.

Before she reached it, a loud bang echoed through the factory. She stopped and looked back, and wished she hadn’t.

Kyoko had sunk to one knee, holding herself upright with her spear. She was glowering at the invisible enemy in front of her. Blood splashed all around, dripping down her arms and sides like leaking pipes. She glared, defiant at death, but unable to move. Out of fear or the exhaustion.

“Kyoko!”

Sayaka ran for the railing, fully intending on throwing herself over in the desperate hope that she might take the hit instead. But her human legs were too slow to carry her human body.

She saw Kyoko beginning to close her eyes.

Then, several gunshots rang through the building.

For a moment, Sayaka thought Homura was there to save the day, like she always tried to. She even saw raven hairs flowing in midair, as their mistress landed quiet and graceful as a cat on a nearby pillar.

She blinked, and the vision was gone. Instead, she saw golden lights and ribbons covering the floors.

And Mami, tense and unsmiling, descended amidst the chaos.

Moment later, Sayaka felt all the corruption dissolve with her shaky exhale.

She flew down the stairs, jumping several steps at once. One of her ankles were twisted in the process. But she gave it little thought as she scrambled forwards.

Kyoko glared at Mami, snarling fiercely like a caged animal. She tried to stand, but collapsed to her knees with each attempt.

Mami watched her mournfully, offering neither a hand nor any word of comfort. She simply looked with growing sorrow.

Finally, Sayaka reached ground level and Kyoko. She crashed into her from behind. Although the redhead struggled, Sayaka did not loosen her grip. She buried her face in her shoulder, and thanked whatever forces that governed the universe that she had not lost her.

After several minutes, Kyoko finally ceased her struggling. Perhaps she recognized Sayaka’s persistence, or perhaps she simply saw the futility of her action. She fell quiet, and limp in her embrace.

When Kyoko stilled, Sayaka looked up to Mami. She moved her lips, but no words came out.

Mami just gave her a small nod in reply.

“Nagisa.” Mami called to the shadow behind her. The white-haired child emerged with a solemn look on her face. “Could you go home first?”

Nagisa obeyed, but not before looking to them worriedly.

Sayaka wondered to whom it was aimed at.

“We should get her back.” Mami said in her usual pleasant and calm voice. “Can you stand?”

Sayaka nodded and supported Kyoko up. She didn't do anything. She couldn't do anything.

They returned by backstreets and shadowed alleyways. Kyoko eventually struggled out from Sayaka’s grip and hobbled along on her own. When she let go, Sayaka observed that most wounds had begun to heal. Glow the color of rust seeped from her bandaged knees and palms.

By the time they arrived, even the dried blood was cleansed.

Kyoko staggered to the couch the second they were through the door. She slumped on the furniture rather ungracefully and closed her eyes, asleep in second.

Mami and Sayaka exchanged a glance.

“So…”

“This is a problem.”

That’s one way to put it.

“I should have known it won't be anything less than arduous.” Mami sighed and looked to the window. “Care to explain, Kyuubey?”

Sayaka gazed up as well, but all she saw was the reflection of her tired, scared face mirrored by the night. She schooled her expression and sat down, waiting.

Mami made some noncommittal noises every now and then, before she abruptly asked.

“Miki-san, could you take a look at Sakura-san’s Soul Gem?”

Snow globe with pallets of glass. Sayaka hesitated.

“Miki-san.” Mami said again without looking to her.

Sayaka took a deep breath and took the ring off the sleeping Kyoko. Unsure whether she should wake Kyoko up to do this. She had a feeling the redhead would not appreciate being disturbed.

She didn't have to. Without coaxing, the ring transfigured into its original form in her palm.

Sayaka gasped.

Streaks of crimson swam in the oval like drops of blood in ocean. Swirling round and round in the tank. She wasn't sure if it was a trick of the light, but the coating seemed blurred, like she was looking through a fog.

Mami took several Grief Cubes out and tossed them to Sayaka. She caught them and spread them in a circle, before putting Kyoko’s Soul Gem in the middle.

Slimy, black fumes started oozing out. Slow and irregular, like the coughs of a dying engine.

“As I suspected.” Mami said to no one in particular. “Now what do we do?”

Good question. Sayaka was still wondering about that herself.

The black fume dispersed gradually. She picked up the cubes and handed them back to Mami.

Her senior examined the cubes, picking out those already reaching their limit and tossing them to the window. “You can leave after this.” She said to the Incubator.

After a moment, Mami walked over to the dining table. She stood with both palms pressed to the surface, still grim and contemplative.

“Sorry, Miki-san.”

“Mami-san apologizes too much.”

“Well, if I hadn't forced you…”

“It's the way she's fighting now.” She paused, thinking about the times when she could not find Kyoko on the rooftop. “It's bound to happen sooner or later. I'm glad we are taking steps to prevent it now.”

“That is actually one of the problems.”

“She still isn't going to listen to us, is she?”

“I'm afraid not. Kyuubey said she had not recovered that far to care about what we think yet.” Mami gave a wry smile. “Perhaps he was wrong. Sakura-san cares very little of others’ opinion  even when she was in the right state of mind.”

Sayaka chuckled.

“But jokes aside, what are we to do? It's not like we can put a leash on her or lock her in the house.”

Sometimes Sayaka was tempted to try the former. “She will probably just kick down the door.”

“I reckon as much. If only it is still summer vacation…”

Sayaka sat down as well, on the cushion beside Kyoko’s head. She was drooling a little. She brushed her bangs from her face.

“I'm staying.” She said.

Mami watched them for a moment.  _ What of your other obligations? _ She seemed to ask. “You have thought it through then.”

“Just prioritizing.” Sayaka shrugged. “I can study while she's sleeping.”

Mami said nothing for a while, then, “I am happy for you.”

Sayaka looked away blushing. Kyoko’s long mane tickled her fingertips, soft as summer grass.

“Mami-san, can I tell you something?”

“Mhmm.”

“I never understood her. Not really.” She combed, slowly, carefully, savouring. “She kept hiding herself away. And in the beginning I detested her.”

“She does that to people.”

“But once I get past that… once I saw what has always been there…” She swallowed the rest of her words. It was not time yet.

But she vowed. To Kyoko. To herself. To all the sacrifices they willingly or unwillingly endured.

“Now is my chance. I won’t let the candle burn out.”

 


	19. Chapter 19

Plump gray clouds huddled in the sky like a herd of bristly sheep, drowsy on autumn meadow. It was a day best suited for sleep.

Sayaka rolled off from her side of the bed (as she began to secretly call it in her mind) with a yawn. Her feet touched the cold marbled floor. Or she thought it was marble. The chill made her shiver a little.

Looking back, Kyoko was still slumbering. Unlike the days before, she looked peaceful for once.

Sayaka stood, found her slippers, and proceeded to prepare for the long, difficult day ahead.

She pondered as she moved around the apartment like she had lived here her entire life. And perhaps she had, for she furnished the barren apartment in her taste. To the likeliness of the house she built in her mind when she was still a little girl.

When she entered the kitchen to prepare for breakfast, she was devising a contingency plan. She had accepted the fact Kyoko would be injured again today. The only remaining issue was how badly and what she could do about it.

Her finger touched her hairpins. It was her last resort. Even without being a Puella Magi, she could feel the symphony reverberating deep in her chest, an everlasting song that reminded her of who she was.

Maybe, if she gave that part of herself away, she would truly be lost.

Long ago she wouldn’t mind if it meant upholding her justice. But Oktavia cried out against that folly, pointing out that at that time, she was looking for death. For destruction.

And now? Now Oktavia wanted to continue her music. She was tired of the endless reiterations of the same rhythm unrequited love and unappreciated sacrifice. The same echoes of ‘look at me’, ‘look at me’, ‘look at me’ never meant to be heard.

She wanted to explore, to weave a duet. A song about eternity born in temporality. Full of life and shifting key and chaotic tempo.

What did Sayaka want?

The sausages browned. Sayaka shoveled them with her spatula, flipping them upside down.

_ I just want to make breakfast without burning anything. _

Oktavia shook her head in equal parts amusement and disappointment. She slithered back into the symphony she both loathed and adored.

It was then Sayaka heard the footsteps behind her. Erratic, perhaps a little anemic, but obstinate. In a moment, a pair of arms wrapped around her midriff, and a gentle weight fell in the crook of her neck. The unexpected startled her, nearly making her drop the spatula.

But she remembered this embrace. This warmth. A wave of bliss washed over, and Sayaka allowed herself to relax, even leaning back a little.

She put a hand on the arms that trapped her in, but not to push them away like she used to.

Kyoko used to do this in the previous universe too. Back then, it was done jokingly. With flustered cheeks and teasing words, it almost always inevitably evolved into a tickle war.

“Did I wake you?” She asked.

Kyoko neither answered nor moved. And Sayaka found herself lamenting again. When Homura re-wrote the law of the universe, perhaps she lost more than she thought. She only convinced herself it was something they could regain, like a misplaced wallet.

She put down the spatula to pat her unruly mane, to comfort herself.

Kyoko’s arms were loose, and her breathing slow and steady. Did she fall asleep again? Sayaka smirked lightly at the thought. Leave it to Kyoko to falling asleep while standing upright. It was just like-

“I’m hungry.”

Her caress slowed to a stop, as did her thoughts.

It was such a simple statement.

“I know.” She said as warm tears rolled down her cheeks, and were absorbed in the crimson desert.

Kyoko nuzzled a little deeper into her.

“Breakfast will be ready soon.” Sayaka said. “Just wait for me, okay?”

Kyoko nodded and peeked up, watching her lazily pushing the food in the pan before cracking two eggs. Their crisp border popping excitedly in the grease as the aroma drifted up.

Sayaka leaned back and nestled deeper in. For a moment, she could forget everything that happened and fell back into the pretense. The life she had fantasized a thousand times. She couldn't leave. She didn’t ever want to leave.

She turned the stove off when the yolks solidified. Kyoko was waiting, but she gave herself another moment to savor this.

Then with a sigh she plated the food and straightened her back. It already felt cold.

“Help me carry these out.” She told Kyoko.

The redhead perked up with eagerness. She all but snatched the plates full of sausage and sunny-side-ups from underneath Sayaka’s own hands, deft as a pickpocket-

-oh wait, she was.

Sayaka sighed in exasperation, doing a terrible job at concealing her delight.

Kyoko dropped Sayaka’s plate on her side of the table, and took a deep whiff at her own. She licked her lips in anticipation.

“Wait.” Sayaka halted her before she started her meal on the stop. As much as she took pride in Kyoko’s enthusiasm in her cooking, it was not proper.

Not to mention when they were dining together.

“Sit down first.” She instructed.

Kyoko, although slightly agitated at the hold-up, obeyed her command.

“Now, before we start a meal, there’s something we must say first.” She put her hands together. “いただきます”

Kyoko held her hands up, and paused. She looked conflicted.

“Here,” Sayaka moved across the table, guiding her hesitant wrists with her own hands. “Like this. You got it?”

Kyoko nodded mutely.

Just before Sayaka released her, however, a thought crossed her mind. She pressed against Kyoko’s back, trying to hide her fluster in Kyoko’s warmth.

“Ne, Kyoko.”

Kyoko turned half-way, before Sayaka’s restrain stopped her.

“Do you like my cooking?”

Kyoko tilted her head.

Sayaka took a deep breath. It was getting warmer. “Do you… umm, do you want me to cook for you, everyday?”

Without a second thought, Kyoko nodded.

Sayaka smiled and let go. She returned to her side of the table. Kyoko dug in with vigor. Pride and relief swelled up at this familiar sight.

Maybe she was taking advantage of the situation, but she couldn’t help herself. In the end, she was selfish too. She didn’t just want to live, she wanted to live with Kyoko by her side.

“Then you have to promise.” She rested her chin in her palms. “You have to promise you’ll always return to my side.”

 

* * *

 

Kyoko generally sat around the apartment for a while after her meal. She seemed to be straining to listen, though there was no sound other than the running faucet and the faint clicking of a clocktower from a different world. She sat on the bed, cross-legged, gazing up and out with a small frown.

That first day, Sayaka observed her while she occupied herself with chores. She did the dishes, swept the floor, wiped the furniture, and wondered whether she should call Saotome about another ‘vacation’.

Kyoko stood up before she could come to a conclusion.

Sayaka threw down the book she wasn’t even trying to read and picked up a small pouch she put together the previous night. It contained all the small trinkets she stored her magic in.

They did not amount to much, probably not even one tenth of the magic her remaining hairpin held. By themselves each trinket could perhaps heal a paper cut. Together, maybe a broken rib.

But like the old saying goes, better safe than sorry.

She wasn’t sure if it was paranoia, but the Wraiths sprouting up seemed endless, and everywhere. There was barely a moment to rest between fights.

It was worse than she hoped, but better than she feared.

Like their predictions, Kyoko was barely functioning. For three days Sayaka watched her struggle in battle, repeating the same routine of charging forward, getting injured, flinching back, wasting precious magic to close her wounds, then repeating it all over again.

She tried to refrain from healing her unless absolutely necessary. Now that Kyoko had regained some capacity of her magic, she made a conscious effort to repair any damages done to her body. It may be a slow process, but at least she would survive.

Still, Sayaka hated herself a little more each time she closed her fists around her token. Those angry red marks cut her too, but she kept her resolve. The scars accumulated, as did her burning frustration.

Sayaka also tried to give Kyoko advices on fighting, which felt weird considering Kyoko technically had seniority over her in this department. But despite how many times she stressed over the importance of avoiding unnecessary damage, Kyoko would just go back to the same reckless tactics during battle anyway. Maybe it was how Kyoko felt in all those timelines before when Sayaka ignored her warning.

But now was not the time to dwell on that.

With a loud crack, the wall of the warehouse caved in. Kyoko darted inside spear-first, lashing at her downed opponent.

That was probably giving her too much credit. To Sayaka, it looked more like Kyoko was limping frantically in the hope she would make it in time to make an easy kill.

And she did not make it in time. Instead she was knocked to the side and collided into a stack of boxes. Judging by the noise they made when Kyoko crashed into them, most were loaded with heavy, metal products.

Sayaka just caught sight of Kyoko struggling under the boxes when she ran to the large hole at the wall.

The counterattack from the Wraith did not injure her too much, but now she was temporarily immobilized. She had only just freed one arm that had bent slightly to the wrong angle.

Her hands gripped around the pebbles broken off from the wall. Kyoko needed more time.

She did not think. She just picked up a large piece of rubble and threw. Then another. Then another.

It was pointless. She knew Wraiths can only be hurt or killed by magical weapons. Besides she didn’t even know where the Wraith was. But maybe she could still do something. Maybe the Wraiths could be distracted. Maybe…

Suddenly, Kyoko bellowed.

“Run!”

Sayaka was already moving by the time Kyoko opened her mouth. As she stumbled backwards, the wall besides her exploded in a shower of sparks and concretes. The shockwave caught her, throwing her back several meters.

When she landed, she wasted no time to turn and start running. She didn’t need to see to know the Wraith was in hot pursuit. The pressure and occasionally exploding pavement were enough indication.

Sayaka’s eyes darted frantically. Ahead was one of the several docking aisles leading to the river. To her right was the parking lot, and to the left was rows upon rows of shipping containers.

Something blazing hurtled towards her from behind. Sayaka ducked left on instinct, performed an awkward roll, and started running again.

She didn’t know if Wraith could get lost on a foot chase (well, they float, technically). She never ran away from them before. But now she desperately wished it would just leave her alone after a while. Just long enough for Kyoko to get out from under those boxes.

She took a left turn.

Maybe she could circle back to Kyoko and help. She was their only chance of getting out of this alive. Sayaka may have been training herself so she would not be a hindrance to Mami or Kyoko during their patrol, but she no longer possessed her superhuman strength or speed. And if she took even one direct hit from the Wraith, she would never be able to stand up again.

She took another lef-

The topmost shipping container from the left row came careening down. Sayaka slowed just in time to avoid the fate of being crushed underneath.

Okay. Never mind. Right side it is.

Her momentum still caused her to run right into the side of the container, but Sayaka was prepared. She raised her arms to her side, slammed into the exterior, and pushed herself off immediately.

Similar things repeated a few more times. Sayaka lost track of where she was in the metal maze.

She took a left turn and saw the metal container falling halfway down the next corridor ahead.  _ This is bad.  _ She made a desperate dash to the intersection.  _ If this keeps going- _

Another container fell on to the path on her right. She turned left. And froze.

There was no path there either.

She was trapped.

Sayaka stopped, breath caught in her throat.  _ No. _

The floor behind her exploded. There was no time, no choice. She sucked in a deep breath.

And she sprang forward with a scream, her feet pounding down the runway faster and faster. If she continued at this speed, she would probably get a concussion when she hit the metal container. She gritted her teeth.

Just steps away from the collision, her knees bent slightly. Her feet pushed at the ground with all the strength she had. Her arms stretched outwards and upwards, reaching for the edge that seemed as high as the sky. She lunged for her only chance of survival, like a bullet that just left the barrel of a gun.

A little higher. Just a little higher.

Come on.

She was upon the container wall now. She just needed a little more altitude…

Her body dropped.

_ No no no. _

Her hands did not reach the top of the container before her whole body crashed into it. Unfortunately for her, cargo containers were not designed for teenage girls to easily climb on.

The clash between the metal and her comparatively soft flesh did not go well for her. Sayaka was fairly certain she had twisted her wrists and maybe gained several bruises all over her body. She laid on the ground for a moment, too disoriented to sit up. Her arms and head and knees throbbed painfully.

When she finally managed to push herself off the floor, she could not stand. She turned to watch the way from whence she came. It was empty, but she could feel the Wraith approaching.

She dragged herself away from her invisible enemy, until her back hit the metal.

There was no way out.

_ This is it then. _ She wheezed.  _ Despite all the sacrifices everybody made, I’m going to die another pointless death. _

Okay, that’s not quite true. She did find Kyoko in this new universe, and with the Wraith distracted for this long, she must have been able to free herself. She would have saved Kyoko. For once.

Scorching heat began developing from just up ahead. Sayaka couldn’t see it, but she knew it to be the Wraith’s flaming javelin.

Maybe if the attack didn’t kill her instantly, she could use her remaining hairpin to heal herself. Although that was in itself a risky move.

_ I wish I can say I have no regret.  _ She closed her eyes. “But I still haven’t…”

There was a loud grinding noise that seemed to echo in the shipyard. Sayaka squeezed her eyes tighter, mentally bracing herself for the looming death. She could picture the Wraith raising its javelin, taking its sweet time to aim.

She waited.

The heat intensified into a distant inferno, drawing close in agonizingly slow speed. There was a slicing sound. The suspense was killing her inside.

And waited.

But nothing happened. Everything seemed to have stopped like a game of Red Light Green Light. She didn’t know if her death sentence would resume once she opened her eyes, taking her just when she began to hope again. But she did it anyway.

She peeked out from her right eye, opening barely a slit to see through the haze that had welled up. She saw something in front of her. No, wait. Someone.

Both her eyes shot open, then widened in horror. Kyoko had found her. She must have intervened just in time when the Wraith launched its attack. Right now, she was standing there with the bottom of her spear planted deep in the pavement. Blood slid down the golden shaft, pouring from somewhere out of view.

“Kyoko!”

Her wail seemed to wake her from whatever trance she was under. Kyoko dropped the spear, which was broken in halves. A blue flame engulfed the pieces when they clanked to the floor.

Another spear materialized in her right hand. But instead of charging forward, Kyoko dissembled them in fragments connected by chains. The spearhead shot towards her enemy.

Kyoko stayed her ground in front of Sayaka. Her hands moved in a blur of motion that commanded the spear to cut, slash, and stab.

Sayaka watched, mesmerized, by the onslaught. The golden chained spear glowed in dusk, twisting and soaring and diving freely. Sparks and flames puffed in and out of existence. Like a dragon.

The battle was concluded in a minute. Sayaka stood, pushing her back against the container as she slowly climbed on her wobbly knees.

Kyoko retracted her spear and planted it in the ground again. Her hair danced in the evening breeze like a river of fire. She tilted her head skyward and Sayaka saw part of her face. Blood ran down her forehead from a cut she could not see, but her gaze was fierce and alive. She stood proud, strong, and invincible like her old self.

Her heart pounded in her ears. This would be one of those moments forever etched into her memory.

She called out without realizing she was doing it.

Kyoko began to turn. Her eyes shifted to meet Sayaka’s.

But before they did, they fluttered shut, at the same time her knees gave out beneath her.

Sayaka stumbled forward and managed to catch her, just before the two of them crashed onto the ground together.

She sat up and immediately began examining her. It took no time at all. The slash stretching from her chest to her waist was impossible to miss.

With some difficulty, Sayaka sat on her knees and managed to pull Kyoko’s head onto her laps. Her hand flew up to her hairpin.

Another hand stopped her. Kyoko’s hand.

She had opened her eyes again. They were dimmer now in the shadows of the container walls around them. She opened her mouth, but there was no sound.

Sayaka understood anyway.

She bit her lower lip. But what else could she do?

“Kyoko, your wound…”

Kyoko just looked at her with the same sternness.

“But-”

Kyoko coughed up some blood.

Sayaka was panicking now. She shook her head and held on to Kyoko’s hand, still pressed against her hairpins. Telling her not to.

Did they have enough time to wait for Mami? Kyoko’s eyes had begun to glaze over, and her body was getting colder with blood still pouring out. Kyuubey once said Puella Magi’s body could be repaired from any amount of damage, but could they still die from loss of blood? And even if they wouldn’t, how long would it take for the damage to be repaired?

They were  _ not _ going to find out this way.

And suddenly she remembered. The trinkets. She brought them with her. Maybe…

She began patting down herself frantically. Where did she put the pouch?

Kyoko gave her a confused look before her eyes drifted shut. Her breathing slowed, each shallower than the one before.

When Sayaka finally found it, she dumped it all in the hem of her shirt, already drenched in Kyoko’s blood. She picked up an eraser. Music notes winked into existence around her fingertips.

Kyoko groaned and struggled to open one eye. She was too weak to stop her, however, and passed out again.

Sayaka kept it up. She discarded each exhausted item to the side without any care. A bottle of perfume, the doll on her phone, her school ribbon, her keychain…

Eventually, the wound stopped bleeding, then scarred, then faded to pink flesh. It was only then Sayaka stopped, and put down the last trinket she had.

And Kyoko was breathing. Sayaka could feel her pulse when she tucked her hair behind her ear. She began laughing as relief welled up in her eyes. She held on to Kyoko and wept.

At some point during her sobbing session, Kyoko woke up.

Sayaka felt a hand patting her head before she heard her voice choking out, faint and confused. “Sayaka?”

It was the first time she called her name since this awful ordeal. She didn’t realize it, but she had been waiting for it for too long.

Now, now she could understand why Kyoko nearly broke down when they walked back from Kazamino that night several months ago. She pulled Kyoko into her arms, cradling her as gently as a newborn.

“I’m here.” She whispered. “I’m not going anywhere.”

And Kyoko let herself be held. Her smile warm and bright just as the sun dipped below the horizon. Like she had finally come home.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll be busy this coming week and the week after. Update will likely return to once a week during the weekend.  
> And then finally to rework the story.

“I should have known.” Mami sighed over her tea.

Sayaka could only smile at that.

After the battle on the dock three days ago, Kyoko’s condition changed again. Sayaka informed Mami of the latest development, and both agreed they should reconvene to discuss this advancement. Mami also brought up the topic of the growing Wraith problem in the city.

It was the first time Sayaka received any confirmation that the strength of the Wraiths and the frequency of their appearances had crossed the boundary into abnormality.

So, Sunday afternoon, Mami brought Yuma and Nagisa over for a visit.

They had probably all gotten a little too used to the unresponsive Kyoko over the past two and half months. It came as quite a surprise when Kyoko greeted the children happily.

When Mami laid out all her notes observing the Wraith distribution and a rough strength scale over the past couple weeks, Kyoko’s attention was evidently all over the place. Her eyes kept drifting to the couch where the girls debated heartly over the noises made by their handheld game consoles. Before long, she abandoned any pretense of listening and bounded off to join them.

Mami collected her notes, shaking her head with exasperation. But judging by the delighted twist of her lips, she was not completely against this development either.

Sayaka served tea - it was actually a gift from Mami - and settled down to watch the two and a half children bickering by the couch. As eager as she to understand the cause of the Wraith growth, she was not opposed to just relaxing a little and enjoying the fruits of their effort.

“Wait wait wait get back! He’s gonna do the combo!”

“No you gotta finish him off now or he’ll recover!”

“No there’s a delay after his AoE.”

“But our ranged skill is still on cooldown.”

Nagisa and Yuma continued arguing over the most effective strategy against the virtual monster they set off to defeat for the day. They had had similar arguments many times before, and sometimes it would get so bad that the two refused to speak to each other for hours.

But in the end, their spat always resolved quickly and seemingly without any prior indication. Sayaka knew logically that Nagisa was still a child at heart, but it never ceased to amuse her to witness those rare moments when she acted like one.

They were all still children, to be honest.

“Don’t worry.” Kyoko smirked, halting the bickering effectively. It was the same confident smirk that distinguished her when she went out hunting, or at the arcade. One Sayaka had grown quite fond of over the years. “I got this.”

The children stared, wide-eyed and slack-jawed, at the feat of lightning-speed reflex and deadly accuracy with which Kyoko hit each button on the controller to conduct the avatar representing the player. They were transfixed as they beheld her mastery.

Not that it was the only advantage Kyoko had. Sayaka noted to herself, doubting whether they understood the greatest weapon Kyoko had and felt pointlessly proud of being the only one who knew the secret. See, Kyoko had a knack to spot unintentional bug in a game and exploit it to her full advantage. Of course her skills played a large role in her continuous triumph over any competition, but it was the exploitation that truly made her work looked effortless. Maybe some would even call it an art.

“Sometimes I think it is a waste she never went back to school.”

Sayaka looked over to her senior.

Mami was watching them with reservation. Her index finger traced along the brim of her teacup. Sayaka knew she was content with her current life and would trade nothing for it, but she also recognized the yearning for freedom, for confidence in the marigold.

Kyoko always exuded a certain charisma only found on an eagle riding the world’s wind or a wolf loping unrestrained through a forest. It drew in lonesome hearts like theirs.

Only they both knew better. And perhaps it was because of that knowledge Mami said then half-playfully.

“But then again she might not fit so well into the strict structure of conventional society.”

“She likes pushing boundaries.” Sayaka agreed. “And despises being forced into anything that doesn’t interest her.”

“Sometimes I wonder what kind of adult she will grow up to be.” Mami said dreamily. “What kind of adult any of us will be.”

“I never really thought of it.” Sayaka lifted her cup because she did not know what to do with her hands. “It feels so far away.”

She berated herself for sounding so uncertain. She should have provided some comfort, even if her senior did not ask for nor need it. Sometimes Mami forgot there was ground beneath her feet was all.

Mami chuckled, recovering her playfulness.

“You didn’t even imagine yourself as a bride?”

Sayaka nearly dropped her teacup. “Well…”

Mami’s eyes twinkled, but her teasing was good-natured. “It is nothing to be embarrassed about. I am certain all girls imagined it at some point.”

“Even Kyoko?”

“Ah.” Mami paused. “Okay, maybe not all girls.”

They giggled among themselves for a moment. Sayaka worked hard not to picture Kyoko in one of those frilly wedding dress. The more she tried, the more vivid the image became.

Mami recovered first. “But speaking of the future, what do you intend to do tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow?”

“You have been skipping too many days of school.” Mami elaborated. “I know it could not be helped given Sakura-san’s situation. But now she is better, will you be resuming school?”

“I-I don’t know. Maybe?” She glanced to Kyoko. “But I mean with all the Wraiths popping up…”

“Putting yourself in danger will not help her.” Mami chided. “If you are injured, or worse, it will do the opposite of helping.”

“I know that, but-”

“I was actually starting to consider stop bringing Nagisa to patrols.”

Sayaka paused. The first thing she thought of was how Nagisa would have reacted. Then it dawned on her that the Wraith problem was more dire than she realized. If Mami was this scared she might not be able to handle the enemies…

“…well, and I am still considering that. But things changed.”

Sayaka blinked.

“You see, after your encounter at the dock three days ago, the attacks have somehow… abated.”

And here she thought it was because Kyoko was getting better at fighting again.

Mami seemed to read her thoughts. She smiled placatingly.

“I am sure Sakura-san is also improving - well, more like returning to her normal level of capability - but over the past three nights, and actually the whole day yesterday, I have not been seeing as many Wraiths.”

“Well… that’s good, right?” Sayaka began slowly. With each word, her enthusiasm grew stronger. “I mean, who knows, maybe the thing Kyoko killed the other day was some kind of boss. Now we’ve dealt with it, everything is coming back to normal.”

“It is possible, but…”

“Mami-san worries too much.” She quipped. She recognized that doubt again, and resolved to be the source of comfort this time. “I’m sure the worst is behind us.”

Mami still seemed unconvinced, but she reluctantly gave in to the cheery attitude.

“Perhaps.” She allowed a small smile. “Although I should not have to remind either of you that hunting Wraith in itself is a dangerous task, and you must exercise extreme caution no matter what.”

Sayaka gave a playful salute. “Aye, aye.”

Mami shook her head again in exasperation.

“Now onto a different topic.” She put both hands on the table and clasped them together. “I have been talking to Kyuubey.”

Sayaka’s good mood took a spectacular dive. She straightened her back.

“Mostly to get more information about Sakura-san’s condition and how to best help her. I think what we have been doing is sufficient for her natural recovery.”

She could hear the ‘but’ loud and clear.

“… after some research, I developed a theory. Granted, it is hastily put together and surely contains many errors. But here is the gist of it:

“For argument’s sake, let us say human emotions can be roughly divided between instinctive reactions and conceptual analysis. The former was primal and immediate, while the latter required internal meditation on long-term experience. Let us say this creates three layers - with the most basic emotions such as rage, fear, and a few others being the first. They are triggered by bodily stimuli and easily accessible. I think the first instance we observed this was when Yuma-chan fell off the swing.”

Sayaka nodded slowly.

“As emotions are commonly associated with cognitivity, I will categorize the second layer in a more general sense, and therefore it is much broader than the other two. In this layer, reflex is combined with abstraction. I believe language and conception start playing a bigger role as we progress further toward the next level. Sakura-san’s behaviors today cement my belief. I think her child-like, almost simple-minded attitude means she is a good indication that we have moved further along.”

“Why do I feel like there’s some bad news at the last layer?”

Mami sighed. “If my theory is correct, it means right now Sakura-san is living without remembering much of her past.”

“That’s…”

“Worrying, to say the least.” Mami’s brows furrowed together. “The last layer… if I am right, they are the most deep-rooted of all. Happiness and depression. Love and hatred…”

In a flash, she saw the last moments of the many timelines she never got to witness as herself. Be it the tender smile engulfed by purple flame, or the cold rage that warped reality into a dark lake with goldfishes and faceless marching band.

“…hope and despair.”

The words hung heavy between them.

Meanwhile, Nagisa and Yuma were squeaking with excitement around Kyoko. Their small hands latched onto her shoulders as they jumped up and down.

“Yes yes he’s low now do the rota- yeeeeessssss!”

“Ohmygodohmygodohmygod-”

“Finish him!”

“Watch the flamethrower!”

“Woooo!”

“You did it! You did it! That was awesome!!”

Mami took another sip from her cup.

“She has a lot of baggage.” She said. Her voice was barely audible amidst the cheers coming from the couch. “I shudder to think what will happen if everything all come crashing back at once.”

Sayaka did not know what to say, so she just grabbed her cup tighter. Just imagining it pained her.

“I hope I am wrong.” Mami offered weakly. “Maybe it won’t be so bad. Maybe she will just… go back to being herself. Like nothing happened. And we can pick up where we left off.”

Sayaka wished so too. But when had life ever been that generous to them?

“I am sorry for bringing you down.” Mami looked away. “Heaven knows you two deserve a break.”

It took Sayaka several seconds to regain her composure enough to speak.

“Well, better being prepared now than finding out at the worst moment.” She forced a smile. “I’m grateful. Really, Mami-san. Without your support-”

Without meaning to, her eyes cast down to the space between them.

“-ah, wait. You've finished your tea. I’ll go make some more.”

As she escaped into the kitchen, she could feel Mami’s eyes following her mournfully. Her body went about the kitchen collecting the electric kettle and bag of tea leaves automatically, while her mind still struggled to sort itself out.

Sayaka hugged herself with trembling arms. She felt lost, unsure which of her emotions led which. Anger, bitterness, agony, or fear.

Like Mami said, it might not be as bad as they feared. But even if her prediction was off, Sayaka had a feeling things would turn out worse than either of them imagined. It had always been the way life worked for them, why should this be any different?

_ Because we had already paid more than we should have. _

Kyoko had said that to her before, and it was the truth. But it did not stop anything. Not the suffering. Not the guilt. And of course not the tragedy.

She dug her fingers deeper into her sides, trying to calm herself with pain.

It was working, sort of. A part of her - the part living at the present - still wanted to scream her frustration, but the part that had once been one with the all-knowing benevolent salvation had put the reins of her emotions in her hands, albeit precariously.

If she kept holding on, maybe she would not float away again. If she kept her hands tight, maybe she would not fall.

Or at least that’s what she thought until a pair of arms encircled her and pulled her backward. Sayaka yelped in surprise, losing her balance, and caught the familiar scent of apple.

“Kyoko?” She turned in her arms so as not to accidentally knock into the boiling kettle. “What are you-”

She trailed off.

Crimson eyes pierced into her, sharp but sincere. It had been way too long since she saw Kyoko look at her like this, and it was doing all kinds of funny stuff to her breathing.

Oh, and they were nearly pressed against each other. Body parts that normally would only be touched briefly or not at all.

The heat of the boiling kettle climbed onto her face.

“Uh, Kyoko?”

Kyoko seemed completely ignorant of their very compromising position. She looked Sayaka up and down, then frowned.

“What’s wrong?” Her voice was as feeble as her attempt to put a bit of distance between them.

Kyoko did not relent even an inch. She did not apply much force in her grip, but it was difficult to escape from nonetheless. Her frown deepened.

“You weren’t in the living room.”

“Well, yeah. Mami-san’s cup was empty. I came to make some mo-”

“I don’t like not seeing you.”

Oh. Oh dear.

Something Mami said earlier managed to get past the fluster and kicked her brain into functioning again. There was no implication behind what Kyoko said, at least not in the way she maybe, could be, within the realm of possibility, want it to be.

“I was right here.” She pinched her cheeks to dispel her own embarrassment.

“Ann I phond juu.” Kyoko said.

Sayaka stared at her straight face for a full three seconds before breaking down laughing.

Kyoko tilted her head in confusion.

“Nothing. Nothing.” She wiped a tear from the corner of her eyes. The switch of the kettle clicked off behind her. She turned around and leaned back, letting Kyoko catch her again. “Just give me a moment. Don’t worry about it.”

That’s what she should have done all along.

 

* * *

 

She was in such a good mood she invited everyone to stay for dinner. Kyoko tilted her head again quizzically when she announced her plan, but quickly forgot about it when the children squealed and started dragging her to play some other game. Or maybe it was the same one. It was unimportant.

And while the children bickered whose team Kyoko should be on, Mami just gave her a meaningful smile while sipping her third cup of tea.

The children (and Kyoko) ended up eating on the couch. All of them huddled together around the handheld console while Kyoko’s fingers deftly tapped on seemingly all buttons at the same time. When she was done, she handed it back to Yuma and Nagisa pulled her own console from her pocket.

“…isn’t that cheating?”

Sayaka delayed putting a meatball into her mouth to ask.

Mami delicately winded some pasta on her fork. “Nagisa-chan insisted it is ‘utilizing all available resources’.”

Sayaka shook her head. “I still think it’s cheating. It’s like asking you to do her homework.”

She meant it as a joke, but Mami put her fork down and cleared her throat uncomfortably.

“What?” Sayaka snapped around to gape at Mami. “No way!”

“I did teach her!” Mami defended as if the idea was too scandalizing. “Next time she will be able to do them on her own.”

Sayaka raised an eyebrow at that, but said nothing.

The children had already finished their own food. Now they took turn feeding Kyoko, without taking their eyes off the screen of the console.

After another half an hour of amicable chatter (solely between Sayaka and Mami, Kyoko was still preoccupied with the game alongside the kids), Mami checked her phone.

“It is getting late.” She announced. “I should take them home.”

“We’ll walk with you to the intersection.” Sayaka offered. “It’s time for our walk- I mean, Kyoko probably wants to go out hunting.”

Mami smiled and beckoned for the children to pack up. They happily complied. Only Kyoko was pouting and shuffling around. Sayaka went ahead to get her hoodie and helped her put it on.

“What are you sulking for?”

Kyoko made a face at her in response.

As they bickered, their guests had all readied themselves. Nagisa and Yuma each clung to one of Mami’s arms, the former bouncing slightly.

“If we keep this up we’ll max our level by the end of the month.” She determined proudly. “Then we can do co-op for the final mission.”

“Pffft, I can solo it easy.”

“Maybe with a proper tank.” Yuma chirped. “But I’m playing healer and Nagisa-chan is CC. The mob will one-shot us at our current level.”

“I told you it can be done. Need good positioning is all..” Kyoko complained. “But fine. Go ahead with your farming. Booooring.”

Nagisa stuck her tongue out, and Kyoko retaliated.

“I am glad you are progressing well, Nagisa.” Mami sighed, pulling Nagisa back from her glaring contest with Kyoko. “But remember the rules. No game on school nights unless you finish your homework.”

“I knooooow.”

“And no staying up past your bedtime.”

“Mami.” Nagisa mimicked the way Mami sighed with overdramatic emphasis. “I  _ knoooooooooooow _ .”

“As long as we are clear on that.” The blonde turned to Sayaka and Kyoko. “Shall we?”

Kyoko drew back a little, all her cheer dissipating in an instant. She regarded Mami with the apprehension of someone watching the humid, overcast sky.

Sayaka noticed, and took charge of the situation by dragging her towards the door.

The atmosphere remained on knifepoint for the rest of their joint walk. When they reached the intersection where they parted ways, Kyoko was all too eager to seperate. If not for Sayaka’s firm hand on the scruff of her neck, like on a leash, she might just dash in the opposite direction at the first chance.

To impress upon her the importance of decorum, Sayaka made it a point to force Kyoko to stand and send the departing party off until they were well out of their sight.

Then, she turned to Kyoko, still holding her wrist. But she slipped her hand into her palm and squeezed.

“Why did you refuse Mami-san’s offer to help the patrol?” She asked in a less stern tone.

Technically, Kyoko did not. At least insofar as she did not outright object to the idea. However, her reluctance was as obvious as a search beam shining directly in one’s face.

Kyoko opened her mouth, struggled to articulate her thoughts, then shut it without saying a word.

Sayaka had a lingering idea.

“What do you feel about Mami-san?”

Kyoko’s brows twisted in great effort. “I don’t know.” She said finally. “I don’t understand.”

This, for some strange reason, reminded Sayaka of her last conversation with Kyoko in the previous timeline.

With everything that happened afterwards, she now had a better grasp at what it really meant.

In the previous world, Kyoko was the first among them all to fully regain her memory, and therefore her magic. Homura built too perfect a world. It was always spring. Time was a mere illusion. They were all just stumbling on the Mobius strip of the neverending April.

Perhaps it had to do with her association with the Law of Cycle, or Homura’s version of happiness for all clashed with her core ideology. Perhaps it was her pledge at the creation of that universe. It was pointless to speculate, but Sayaka remained restless in the previous universe. Although everything was as peaceful and perfect as she could ever hope, there was always a nagging voice at the back of her head.

That voice grew louder once she started suspecting something was going on with Kyoko.

Then, convinced that Homura must be the perpetrator of her agitation, she set out to confront the devil herself.

As expected, Homura grew annoyed with her. She was about to do something - now Sayaka thought about it, she must be trying to wipe her memory again - when Sayaka’s mind suddenly grew sluggish.

In the countless times she reflected on those fleeting moments before she fainted since the incident, Sayaka became convinced she heard Kyoko’s voice back then.

“Don’t touch her.” The redhead growled.

“How admirable.” Homura commented with dripping sarcasm. “Saving the damsel in distress, are you? ‘忠犬’, I believe that term fits you well.”

“Stick to our agreement.” Kyoko snarled back. “I’ll deal with the people who start to-”

That was when her memory completely faded.

When she woke up next, she was in her own room. Kyoko was playing some video game with a pocky sticking out of her mouth like a cigarette. There was something about the frown that prompted Sayaka to call out.

“Yo.” Kyoko greeted her with a disinterested glance. “You fell asleep while doing homework.”

Sayaka noted how strangely detached she sounded, but she was more bothered by what she said. “No. I was… I went to Akemi.” She began shaking her aching head, “I went to her and-”

That was when she remembered the short exchange she barely caught at the end. Sayaka looked to Kyoko.

She wouldn’t betray her, right?

_ Of course not. _ She rubbed her temples, scolding herself. There was no way in heaven or hell Kyoko could betray her. She was her best friend in more than one way. They shared everything. They trusted each other completely.

Then she proceeded to lay out all her suspicions about Akemi Homura, about this world they lived in, about everything that seemed too perfect to be real.

Kyoko listened quietly, patiently.

Afterwards, Sayaka would note how uncharacteristically calm and distant Kyoko was during her monologue. She would remember every details from the wistfulness in those crimson eyes to the way she slumped in what could only be defeat.

At that time, she was too preoccupied to have her conspiracy theory validated by her most trusted friend.

Kyoko neither confirmed nor denied the possibility. She simply asked.

“For argument’s sake,” She began. “Suppose you are right. There really is something off about the world. What are you going to do?”

Sayaka responded with the first answer that came to mind. “Well, correct whatever it is.”

“Fair enough.” Kyoko nodded slowly. “Now let’s make things a bit more specific. You remember that movie we watched last week? About dreams?”

“Inception? Yeah, why?”

“Let’s say this is a dream.” There was bitterness in her slight chuckle that Sayaka did not catch. “You’ve been here for so long you don’t even remember what reality even is like. How far will you go to try and wake up?”

“Well, I’d do everything I can.”

“Why?”

Upon reflection, Sayaka would notice how desperate and pained that simple word was. But it did not happen at the moment the conversation commenced.

“Because if this is a dream, then nothing here is real.” She said, and believed everything she said. “It doesn’t matter how bad reality might be. We must have the courage to wake up and face the truth.”

Kyoko looked away then, like she could not bear seeing her face.

And Sayaka continued. “Because only when we are awake can anything we hold in our hands be real.”

Kyoko looked up, but not to her. She was gazing out of the window from their room. Her eyes fell on something far beyond reach. Long lost, and long forgotten.

“And you are willing to sacrifice everything you have, right here?”

“Yes.”

A moment of uneasy silence hung between them. When Sayaka recognized the great divide that seemed to spur into existence out of nowhere, it was already too late.

“You know,” Kyoko faced her and said, in barely a whisper. “My father was right.”

“Huh?”

Kyoko’s dad? What was he like?

“I never understood what he was trying to say.” 

Wait, what happened to her family? Aren’t they living peacefully in Kazamino now?

“In the end, I made a wish not for him but for myself.”

Then why is Kyoko here?

“I only  _ thought _ I did it for him.” Kyoko smiled at her, broken. “Just like how I  _ thought _ I’m doing this for you.”

“I-” She stuttered. “I don’t understand.”

Kyoko got up from the floor and closed the distance between them. She laid her hands on her shoulders, before leaning in and gave her a tender kiss on the forehead.

“You don’t have to. See,” her voice dropped even lower, as if telling a secret. “That’s the beauty of the hollowness I weave. There’s nothing to understand about it.”

Almost as soon as she finished that sentence, the world began to shake.

In the distance, a golden beam of pure energy shot into the sky.

Kyoko gave her one last look before she stepped back. Her hand still outstretched, but balled into fists.

“幸せだ。”

Then she was gone.

As if that was the key locking her memories, Sayaka began to remember. She sat stunned in her room as the golden beam - Madoka’s power - intensified.

From her bedroom windows she could see the fake city begin to glow. She thought to herself,  _ it’s so bright, bright like the gate of heaven _ . Then,  _ how could the devil create something so beautiful _ .

She had yet to find the answers when Mami and Nagisa came to collect her and Kyoko a few minutes later. Both also beginning to remember the terrible conspiracy they had been entangled in. Sayaka was still staring at the city tainted gold by the beam from miles away, and unable to articulate the whereabout of Kyoko.

At that time, she was convinced it would be the end.

She did get another chance to see Kyoko before Homura’s world collapsed, but there would be no more words exchanged between them. To this day, Sayaka regretted that.

“I’ll help you understand.” Sayaka laced their fingers together, painfully aware of the chance she never had back then. And she was adamant on setting things right. “We’ll figure it out. Together.”

Kyoko was perhaps surprised by the determination behind those words, but it was soon forgotten. She nodded and smiled back. It was pure with trust.

Minutes later, Kyoko found the first group of Wraiths of the night.

Sayaka squeezed her hand one more time in encouragement. And let go.


	21. Chapter 21

“Miki-san. You are aware why I called you here?”

“Yes ma’am.”

She kept her head bowed and her voice humble, as befitting of a student, but Sayaka wasn’t really paying attention to Saotome. Her eyes kept glancing to the clock on the wall. It was well past the time she was supposed to meet up with Kyoko. She worried whether the redhead would get impatient and leave the roof without her.

“I actually meant to talk to you before summer vacation.” Saotome sighed. “You have been late to school almost everyday, and then there was the event regarding your friend. I can understand the stress you must be under in this final year of junior high, but skipping class for a week?”

Sayaka shrank back a little.

“I called your parents. They told me you weren’t home. Just what have you been doing?”

That got her attention. She hadn’t even thought about them.

Well, she did receive a text message from her mom on Monday, but at that time she was exhausted after the hunt with Kyoko. She lied and said she was home before falling asleep. The next morning, she had forgotten all about it.

“I was at my friend’s.” She offered no further details, certain that revealing Kyoko would only arouse suspicion unnecessarily. “I’m sorry for worrying everyone.”

“The one who was sick?”

She hesitated. “Yes.”

Saotome frowned, but mostly out of concern. “Miki-san, are you… in some kind of trouble?”

“No!”

She replied out of instinct, but once she heard that simple word, she realized how true it was. A great weight lifted from her heart.

“Not trouble.” She said quietly, calmly, with a small smile. “I was with her because I wanted to.”

Perhaps she showed more than she meant to, for surprise blinked slowly a few times, before she asked. “I don’t mean to presume, but… are you sure you aren’t being lied to?”

Being lied to? No. All things considered, Sayaka was the one withholding information ever since the beginning. It did not matter Kyoko probably would dismiss her truth as delusional rambling. Sayaka lied by omission. And the real reason she said nothing of the previous timelines had little to do with whether she would be believed.

_ I’d rather it was all a lie, and all our problems are imaginary. _

Sometimes the truth was more problematic, and it was a matter of whether it would be worth the sacrifice. Does the truth really matter if everyone would only be hurt by it?

“I think any relationship runs some kind of risk.” She said. “And I have made many mistakes. That will continue to happen, probably. But I believe in her, and I have faith in the me who believed in her.”

After she said that, she realized she spoke out of terms. Saotome could not possibly understand her faith without knowing what Sayaka preferred not to announce to the world. In her passionate discovery, she had forgotten that. They would more likely result in confusion and concern rather than convincing others.

She bowed her head sheepishly. “I’m sorry, sensei. I don’t mean to sound arrogant.”

Saotome judged her with piercing gaze. “But you believe in what you are doing.”

Sayaka met her elder’s gaze, and decided to answer truthfully.

“Yes.”

Saotome adjusted her glasses, catching the ceiling light briefly. She regarded her not as one of her student, but as a young woman in the path of growth. It was an unfamiliar expression to Sayaka. Whereas she had been subjected to appraisal from her peers, this was a different kind of evaluation.

The closest she could remember was Homura’s eerie, knowing side-glance. However, Homura never saw her with sufficient scrutiny. With her, it was always a distant and hollow viewing, like watching a TV.

“Well, there is not much I can say to you without being presumptuous.” Saotome declared. “Unless you share more, though I sense you have no intention in doing that. Is that right?”

“Not out of disrespect.”

“I think not.” The teacher agreed. “Therefore, I shall leave this to your parents.”

The decision enclosed businesslike finality. It was not harsh, but also not kind either. It was a trade.

“I-” She struggled with the bittersweet taste of growing up. But as she saw in Saotome’s eyes the quiet scrutiny, all she managed was a weak “thank you”.

“That is not to say you are off the hook.” Saotome continued sternly. “I do have to penalize you for the missing days and works. Starting tomorrow, you will be on class duty for two weeks. That includes cleaning the classroom, assisting teachers for their supplies, and class journal. You should arrive an hour before the first period starts. Is that understood?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Sayaka slinked out of the windowless disciplinary room shortly after. On her way to the roof, she reflected upon the exchange wistfully. It was every child’s desire to be treated as an adult, though children usually don’t realize what they had to pay in exchange for the endless list of responsibilities.

She climbed atop the stair bulkhead gloomily. Kyoko was still asleep on the platform, oblivious to the world. She was drooling with good dreams that likely involved food and play and other pleasant things.

Sayaka shook her shoulders gently.

Kyoko sat up, brows furrowed slightly together like she couldn’t quite remember how she got here. She rubbed one eye as she yawned, her other eye half-lidded. A small purr reverberated in her throats. The very picture of drowsiness.

But upon seeing Sayaka, her face lit up like summer fireworks. A brilliant grin of unadulterated joy spread from cheek to cheek. 

Sayaka looked at her, and felt that everything was worthwhile after all.

“Come on.” She held out a hand. “We gotta go meet Mami-san.”

Kyoko’s good mood soured immediately at the mention of their arrangement, but she still took the offered hand and got up. She snickered a little when Sayaka nearly stumbled, like she had succeeded in a prank.

Sayaka pushed her lightly in retaliation, but the gesture merely escalated the snicker into a small laugh.

It had been what she wanted, hadn’t it? This life. This relationship. This joy. Even the burdens that inevitably followed.

But she didn’t want to give up the chance to be young and foolish. And she didn’t have to. She was right here, after all.

Suddenly feeling lightheaded and adventurous, Sayaka stepped into Kyoko’s personal space. A small gust of evening breeze lifted Kyoko’s hair, tickling their joined hands.

“Kyoko.”

“Yea?”

“Are you tired?”

“Nope!” Kyoko tilted her head to the side, her smile slowly replaced by intrigue. “Why?”

There was something about those ruby eyes. Perhaps it was their clarity, their playfulness. Something that resonated with a girl who had never been hurt.

Sayaka wetted her lips, heart fluttering even as the words tumbled out of her mouth. Brash, careless, free.

“You ever tried riding on your spear?”

It took Kyoko only half a second to understand. When she did, the excited grin nearly split her face.

“Ohhhhhh.” She wasted no time summoning her spear, not even transforming fully. “Let’s go!”

And before Sayaka had the time to change her mind, Kyoko picked her up and hopped onto her spear like it was a skateboard. It was about this time Sayaka started blushing from the arms, one supporting her knees and the other wrapped around her shoulders. Then, the next thing she knew, they were lurching forward, into the open sky.

“Wooooooohooooooooo!”

Sayaka’s arms latched onto Kyoko’s neck. Her hair was flying everywhere, most of it getting into Kyoko’s face.

“Don’t be so loud! People will see us.”

Kyoko ignored the warning. “This is so cooooooool!” Her exclamation was barely audible in the rushing air. “Why haven’t I done this before?”

“Wait a minute. Then how did you know this will work?” She complained, but she was laughing herself.

“I didn’t!”

“What!” Sayaka kind of wanted to smack her on the back of her head. “You threw us off a building without a plan?!”

“Plans are overrated.” Kyoko grinned down at her. “And anyway you’d be safe with me. I’d make sure of it!”

Sayaka wasn’t quite sure if she pulled closer because she wanted to kiss her or strangle her. Maybe a little bit of both.

“You’re insane!”

“Hey, you started it!”

The spear began losing momentum and altitude. Sayaka noticed this, but continued their bickerings anyway. It wasn’t that she didn’t care whether they would tumble to their death. She simply thought it wasn’t a possibility.

Kyoko evidently noticed as well. She released the arm holding up Sayaka’s knees.

“Hold on.” She told her.

“You don’t have to tell me!” Sayaka yelled back, breathing in her shampoo. It reminded her of the apple orchards she visited during an elementary school field trip.

Kyoko kicked the spear up. Her freed hand grabbed the shaft and took a few test swing. Sparks flew up around them like fireflies. She pointed the spearhead downward and winked at Sayaka one more time.

They began free-falling. Kyoko’s gaze turned away from Sayaka and focused on the ground below. But even as she concentrated, the confident grin lingered.

Sayaka’s heart was pounding hard against her chest. She could feel the insistent pull of gravity, and the sharpness of the air as they shot through like a bullet cutting across water. All those overwhelming sensations branded deep in her skin and in her heart. She buried her face in Kyoko’s collarbone and screamed, in the way people scream when they were riding a rollercoaster.

But unlike any rollercoaster, there was no smooth easing off at ground level. As sudden as it began, it ended without warning. One moment she was still flying, and the next her feet were already touching the ground.

Sayaka stopped screaming, but she waited a little longer before looking up.

“You missed the best part.” Kyoko told her, snickering, teasing. “Chicken.”

Sayaka pouted and headbutted her. “Am not!”

“Uh huh. Are.” Kyoko extracted her remaining arm, laughing. “It’s okay. I used magic. We’re here. You can let go now.”

_ What if I don’t want to? _ Sayaka almost asked.

She shoved Kyoko in mock anger and stuck out a tongue.

Kyoko mimicked her action and dismissed the spear. It flickered away in purple flame, dissolving before they hit the pavement made up by broken sanded stone.

Sayaka didn’t realize what Kyoko meant by ‘here’, but the surroundings were immediately recognizable. The quiet street to Homura’s apartment was one of a kind in the entire world, as was the residential buildings with large frames of windows and doors.

Now the two-story apartment towered over them. With slanted shadow casted by the setting sun. the building had the expression of someone raising an eyebrow. Perhaps even in the likeliness of a condescending smirk they had seen before.

Sayaka, still feeling rather childish, stuck out her tongue at the immobile object.  _ Shut up. _

The exhilaration from their skydive gradually subsided, and it was only then she heard a small cough from behind. It belonged to neither her nor Kyoko.

Sayaka froze. She had thought this neighborhood was devoid of any population (although the assumption was never confirmed) due to some strange magic Homura weaved into this new universe. Perhaps she was wrong, and they had simply never seen anyone else until today.

Technically, there was no rule forbidding Puella Magi from revealing themselves to civilians. Code of honor and sense of heroic deed without repayment aside, there was a good reason most Puella Magi kept a low profile. It complicated matters for both the civilians involved and the Puella Magi themselves, and most of the time did more harm than good. People intuitively fear the unknown. Joan was a great example.

Therefore, when Sayaka began to turn towards the voice, she was desperately trying to come up with a plan. Many scenarios played in her mind, none of which were pleasant.

All her boldness dissipated. Why did she ever think it was a good idea to egg Kyoko on? Sure it was fun and all, but…

Then she saw the small group behind them, and breathed a sigh of relief.

It was just Mami, and Yuma, and Nagisa. They were all looking at her funny. The children seemed to be restraining themselves, and Mami looked… flustered.

…oh.

“We didn’t mean to interrupt.” The blonde explained, though she refused to meet Sayaka’s eyes. “But, um, you both are late and we just thought we should come check on you.”

“Not that we thought you were enjoying yourselves too much or anything.” Nagisa quipped cheerfully. “Just in case you got in some kind of trouble. You know.”

Yuma winked at Kyoko with a thumbs-up. To which Kyoko just tilted her head without the slightest inkling of what it was about.

Sayaka just wanted to dig a hole and bury herself right then and there.

 

* * *

 

They had dinner together. It had become an increasingly common and lively event as of late. As usual, Mami and Sayaka prepared the food while Kyoko played with the children. Mami recovered from the event quickly and began asking about Sayaka’s day.

It took Sayaka a little longer to overcome her own embarrassment, but she relayed her conversation with Saotome to Mami.

“Have you told her yet?” Mami asked.

Sayaka paused, before she started poking at the cheese croquette with her chopstick. “Not yet.”

“I can watch over the stove if you want to tell her now.”

She considered the offer. One of the children squealed when their avatar got annihilated by Kyoko in a fighting game.

“Nah.” She shook her head. “I’ll tell her when we go out for patrol tonight.”

Mami nodded, and they continued their cooking in silence.

After dinner, Sayaka mentioned her talk with Saotome to Kyoko as well. “I’ll have to go home for a few days.” She explained. “But I’ll come get you every morning, and we’ll still have lunch together. Alright?”

Kyoko frowned and said nothing, although anyone with eyes could tell she was displeased by the news.

“What if we stay?” Mami suggested. “All three of us. It can be fun. Like a sleepover.”

Kyoko stiffened. “I don’t need a babysitter.” She growled, pointedly not looking at Mami.

“But I want to.” Yuma piped up. “Can I, Kyoko? It’s been forever. I missed you.”

Kyoko relaxed in an instant. “Only if you brought the charger.”

“Ohhhhh. We can play after you come back. Then I’ll be 10 levels ahead of Nagisa-chan.”

“What?! That’s cheating!”

Before long, it was time for night patrol again. Before they set off, Sayaka insisted on showing Yuma everything in the apartment. She stressed over all the safety concerns again and again, even after Kyoko got fed up with the endless lectures and escaped.

“And this is my number.” She handed over the piece of paper she just scribbled her contact information on. “Do you have a phone? Yes? Good. Alright, remember, if anything happens - anything at all. Call me right away, alright? Even if Kyoko objected-”

“I goooot iiiit.” Yuma rolled her eyes dramatically, before beaming up at Sayaka. “It’s okay. I’ve lived with Kyoko for almost three years.”

Sayaka rubbed the back of her head. “Sorry. I know you two can take care of yourselves. It’s just…”

Yuma nodded and reached up. She was too short to reach her shoulder. And she had to stand on her toes even to reach Sayaka’s arm.

“I’m actually happy.” She told Sayaka. “Feels good to be worried at. Kyoko thought the same.”

“Really?”

“Oh yeah.” Yuma giggled. “Especially coming from you.”

Sayaka’s cheeks warmed.

Yuma laughed. “Anyway, good luck.”

Sayaka’s gaze wandered to Kyoko, who was standing by the door tapping her shoes impatiently. “Thanks.” She mumbled with a sheepish smile, and the two walked to the entrance.

“I’ll be waiting.” Yuma told Kyoko, before she abruptly dashed forward and hugged her.

Kyoko looked caught off guard. She accepted the gesture with a confused frown directed to Sayaka. But Sayaka turned away just in time to avoid the question.

Mami and Nagisa accompanied them for a few blocks before saying their goodnights. Then, it was just the two of them, and Sayaka gathered just enough courage to pull at the hem of Kyoko’s hoodie.

The redhead smiled, and took her hand in her palm. She likely had no idea what Sayaka was looking for, but she knew the gesture would please her companion.

True to Mami’s prediction, they found very little Wraiths in the hours they spent traversing the streets. The night was quiet and peaceful. Several times Sayaka found her attention drifting to the stars barely visible above the city lights, and she wondered whether she could hold on this time.

But as the night drew deeper, Kyoko’s good mood soured considerably. Frowns replaced her grin. And she held onto Sayaka’s hand just a little tighter with each street corner they passed.

Sayaka let Kyoko drag her around. Truth to be told, she wasn’t ready for the separation either. However temporary it was.

Alas, they arrived at her apartment complex. Sayaka looked up to the lights shining through the many windows, feeling like a stranger. She did not belong here. This was a place she had called home for countless years, but it was no longer a place she ought to return to.

“Kyoko.” She stopped her just before they stepped within range of the apartment light. “Maybe we should go home.”

Kyoko looked back to her. “This  _ is _ your home.”

_ No. _ Sayaka wanted to say. _ It’s where I have lived, but this is not where I want to go. Not where I want to spend the rest of my life.  _ Instead she said, “yeah. Yeah, it is.”

Neither of them moved. Neither of them let go.

“You know.” Sayaka hummed. “I think we should talk about moving Yuma-chan in.”

Kyoko tilted her head again. A few stray locks swayed before her crimson eyes.

“I mean, move her to the apartment. Like permanently.” Sayaka squeezed her hand. “Then you'll see her everyday. Do you want that?”

The smile she received as a response was so brilliant it hurt.

“And then-” Sayaka cleared her throat, which was suddenly coarse. The words were difficult to voice, let along realize. “-then you won’t have to go. Everything’ll be alright. This can be your home. Right here.”

She could tell Kyoko did not fully understand what she meant, but she had enough faith in Sayaka to believe in whatever she said. The responsibility was overwhelming. It was so sweet it burned her eyes. She shivered.

Kyoko noticed. The redhead took off her hoodie and draped it over Sayaka’s shoulders in one swift motion.

“What are you doing?” Sayaka tried to shrug it off. “The nights are getting cold. You should keep it.”

“I’m fine.” Her reply was light with a childish pride. “Got magic here.”

Sayaka nodded begrudgingly. She leaned against Kyoko, who instinctively reached out to steady her. Her body was solid and warm.

“It’s late.”

“Yeah.”

She wanted to ask Kyoko to take her on another spear ride. Never land. Run away together. -would it really be running away if you have the world beside you?

Kyoko glanced over to the apartment building, oblivious to Sayaka’s turmoil.

“Huh.” She mumbled. “Someone’s there.”

Sayaka looked over as well. The silhouette of a woman paced back and forth in the lobby of the apartment. She did not see the two of them near the treeline, but they could see her, and Sayaka recognized her mother. It must not have been more than two weeks since she last saw her parents, before they traveled to Italy on a business trip. But it felt like she had not seen them properly for months.

As the only child, Sayaka grew up the sole owner of all the affections and loneliness her parents subjected. Toys, gifts, and concerts were compensations to the empty house and takeout dinners. Such life shaped her into a fiercely independent girl, but also cultivated an acute craving for approvals.

Combined with her upbringing, it was no wonder Sayaka became quite a stickler for rules and justice. They also compelled her to strive to be someone her parents could be proud of.

Despite their absence, Sayaka knew her parents loved her dearly. Their misguided notion of what was best for their child notwithstanding, Sayaka had seen through Madoka’s eyes how her death devastated the couple. They blamed themselves for her death, and a large part of the society agreed.

Sayaka strongly opposed such fallacy, though she never previously had a chance to repent for the crimes she committed.

When she realized she had been given another chance at life, she vowed to atone for it, along her other many mistakes. Still, a part of her rebelled as teenagers ought to. She neglected her family, her academic responsibility, and social life befitting a normal girl. All in favor of the uncertainty and excitement of magic, adventures, and what she could only hope would become more than friendship.

Even now, the sweet temptation of being whisked away whispered in her ears. She pulled the jacket closer to shield herself.

“I should go.” She said, unable to look back or utter another word.

Before Kyoko could respond, Sayaka dashed towards the entrance of the apartment building. Her mother only noticed when she was steps away from the automatic door, and rushed out to greet her.

“Sayaka!” She embraced her tightly, but pulled away after she remembered she was quite crossed with her daughter. “Where have you been? You father and I have been worried sick about you!”

“Sorry.” Sayaka ducked under her wrath. “I was at a friend’s-”

“Oh no. Don’t you start that with me, young lady.” Her mother scolded. “We have called every single one of your classmate. None of them knew where you had been last week. Not even Suzuki-san!”

Sayaka wasn’t surprised. She fully anticipated this, even without the strange looks her classmates had directed her way the whole day today. “I meant a friend one year senior of me.” She lied smoothly. “I forgot to leave her contact on the table. I’m really sorry.”

Her mother picked up on the pronoun and relaxed a little, though she was still displeased.

“You did not have permission to sleep over.” She vented. “Not to mention what a great inconvenience it must be to her parents. We shall visit her and thank her ourselves.”

Sayaka winced, unsure whether it would be a good time to mention Mami was orphaned.

Her mother looked up, missing her grimace completely. She was looking behind Sayaka. “Is that the friend you speak of?”

Sayaka whirled around.

And sure enough, Kyoko was standing mere steps from them. She noticed their gaze and stuck her hands in her jean shorts pocket, looking slightly uncomfortable.

“Uhhhhhhhhh.” She didn’t really take into consideration Kyoko would follow her in. This was not how she envisioned the two separate parts of her life would cross path. “No but also kind of yes. She also knows Mami-san and we’ve been kind of spending time together and she’s actually really nice but sometimes when she’s around strangers she can be a bit rude and-”

She realized she was blabbering, and her mother was staring at her. “-I mean.” She tried desperately to salvage this. “She’s… she’s…” She swallowed. “She’s a good friend.”

Her mother turned to Kyoko.

“Did you walk Sayaka home?” She asked, not unkindly. “Please, come closer.”

Kyoko hesitated, glancing towards Sayaka for permission. But Sayaka just stared at her feet, face burning with embarrassment. So Kyoko eventually shuffled a few steps forward, but still a respectful distance away.

“I heard my daughter has been staying with you.” She smiled. “I hope she hasn’t been a bother?”

At that, Kyoko grinned and shook her head.

“Ah, in that case.” She nodded pleasantly. “Have you had dinner yet?”

“Yeah.” Kyoko patted her belly to emphasize the point. “Sayaka cooked dinner!”

“Oh? Did she now?”

Sayaka could hear the raised eyebrow her mother directed at her. She lowered her head further, praying this conversation would be over soon. This was not how she envisioned their first meeting would be.

“Yeah!” But of course, Kyoko knew nothing of her plight. “Sayaka’s a great cook.”

“Interesting.” Her mother muttered, before her tone lightened up. “Still, if you will accept it, I do wish to invite you over for a meal sometime. It isn’t often we get to meet Sayaka’s friends.”

Sayaka’s head shot up. Knowing Kyoko, she would accept the offer of food in a heartbeat. What she wouldn’t realize was her mother’s true intention.

She was about to signal Kyoko not to accept when the redhead suddenly perked up, looking out of the building with the fierceness of a hound that smelled its prey. Sayaka knew immediately what it was, and although she was worried, now that they were in the presence of her mother, there was no way she could follow her.

“Next time.” Kyoko smiled at Sayaka’s mother. “I gotta go.”

The older Miki was surprised by the sudden declaration, but nodded gracefully. “Of course, it’s quite late. Can I call a taxi for you?”

“Thanks, but nah.” Kyoko rolled her shoulders with a lupine smirk, fang glinting in the light. “Got something to do first.”

“Well, take care then.” The older Miki said. “Sayaka, do you want to walk your friend to the door?”

It was more of an actual question than a show of courtesy, but Sayaka jumped at the chance anyway. “Yeah. I mean-” She nodded eagerly. “It’s only polite, right?”

She dragged Kyoko outside, fully aware her mother was watching their every move. There wasn’t much time to talk.

“You should call Mami-san.” She told Kyoko right away, and slapped her arm lightly when the redhead made a face. “I’m serious! It’s not safe to go out there alone.”

“I’ll be fine.” Kyoko rubbed the place she was hit. “Go on. She’s waiting.”

But Sayaka couldn’t move. She still looked at Kyoko worriedly. It was Kyoko who stepped away first. She jogged toward the treeline to the right, making a shortcut to where she sensed the Wraiths.

“Wait.” Sayaka called out when she almost faded into the shadow. “Your jacket.”

Kyoko stopped, and looked between Sayaka and the apartment building. “Take care of it for me.” She waved back. Her grin softened to a tender smile. “And treasure your family.”

That simple sentence nearly choked her.

“Kyoko!” She tried to reach her, but even as Sayaka called out her name, Kyoko was already turning away again. And before Sayaka took even two steps, the redhead had completely disappeared into the night.

The automatic door hissed open behind her. Her mother’s footsteps approached, leisurely.

“Kyoko, was it?”

“…mom.”

“She seems like a good kid, although… a bit rambunctious.”

“Mom.”

“The law might forbid discrimination, but the society is another story.”

“ _ Mom. _ ”

“I’m just saying.” The older woman shrugged with a smirk of her own, though it quickly faded away. “Now, you and I need to sit down and have a long talk.”

Sayaka nodded weakly, swallowing as she followed her mother to the elevator.

 

* * *

 

Kyoko crouched atop an apartment building, squinting down at the listless street.

It was near. She could feel the creeping chill climbing up her back, the unmistakable presence of malice. Something foreign yet familiar. It had been nagging at the back of her mind for quite some time now, but this was the first time she had any proof it wasn’t just a hunch.

She rubbed her eyes. Nowadays she began doubting her own senses. Sometimes she felt like there was a veil covering her ears, her eyes, her nose, even her mouth. There was a fog in her mind that constantly derailed her train of thought. A darkness loomed over her even under the bright noon sun. It made her irritable, and there was only one thing, well, person, who could soothe the agitation.

She left her behind. No. She shook her head. She was where she belonged.

A purple spark appeared in the corner of her vision. She snapped towards it, expecting trouble. But when she turned fully, there was nothing out of the ordinary. In her view were more buildings, trees, and the reflection of the moon. She frowned. A park.

The stank of corruption wafted to her nose and she honed in immediately. Hopping down the roof, the world rushed by in a blur. The very air seemed to resist her.

She caught the purple flash again just as she landed, soundless like a cat. It disappeared when she blinked, but she had memorized its location. She ran under the cover of the night, darting from shadow to shadow, like a panther stalking its prey.

Frustratingly, the purple flash was always just at the corner of her vision. She tried all the techniques she knew, but could not close their distance.

Until finally, she came out of the woods and stood beside the lake.

The purple flash hung in the air for a while, as if staring back at her, before it flickered away.

It could be a trap. A thought emerged through the haze that still lingered over her thoughts. It could be from a Puella Magi they were not aware of, or the more intelligent Wraiths, or even the doing of the Incubators themselves.

The stench was so intense she had to take a step back. It was not really a smell, so to speak, more like an extra sensory they gained. Soul Gems sought balance, and the Wraiths were disturbances.

Kyoko took several deep breaths. She knew she didn’t really need the oxygen, what with magic and all, but she did it anyway to prepare herself for the unknown under the surface.

Then she dove in.

The water was freezing, and it hindered her movement. Her limbs felt heavy and numb. She scowled down. And the darkness of the depth stared right back at her.

She summoned her spear and gave it weight to help her descent. She moved slowly, turning her head this way and that with extreme caution. The world around her was dead silent, devoid of any sign of… anything. She looked up to the surface. The moonlight had become but a faint glow, like a drop of blood dissolving.

And as the only reassurance of a world other than darkness faded away, the numbness began seeping into her skin. Coldness and fear crept into her veins, coursing freely with her every heartbeat.

The corruption grew stronger still, to a point where she began to realize what a stupid idea this had been.

But she couldn’t turn back now. She had come too far. She was a piece of scrap metal too close to the magnet. She was a leaf caught in a storm. Her body kept pushing her forward, despite all the red lights going haywire in her mind.

And soon, she found what she was looking for.

Shadows laid on the bottom of the lake, motionless, timeless, lifeless. They were broken marionettes discarded by their masters. Remnants of someone’s hopes and dreams. They were one with the darkness, enormous in their despair but also puny and frail, seeming like they would break into million pieces with the slightest of touch.

Kyoko stared at them, bewildered. She had no idea what to make of this. She had no idea what they even were. They were corruptions, but not Wraiths. No, they were more than that. They were…

Recognition flashed through her mind as her gaze fell on one particular figure. Tall and lean, sitting slumped against a large mass. She could hardly distinguish its shape, let along the colors of washed-out expectations in the near darkness, but she knew instinctively of its nature. Like an idea. A concept brought into material realization.

Irrational rage erupted from somewhere outside her body. Her mouth opened in a soundless scream as a detached part of herself watched on in horrified fascination, as if she was split into two halves separated by a mirror.

The water around her heated up, boiling, as another spear materialized under her. Flaming and colossal. The fire illuminated the creatures on the bottom of the lake.

And, as if the light gave them life, they began to move. Kyoko had a hard time observing them through the turmoiled water, but she knew the figure she recognized from a dream had stood.

And when it looked up and their eyes met, Kyoko knew she wasn’t the only one seeking.


	22. Chapter 22

She could hardly feel the passing of time.

Ironically, the first hint of something amiss arose in a quiet, peaceful afternoon. She was preparing tea and dessert as she had done daily, distracting herself with a light tune. The rich aroma of hibiscus saturated the apartment as leaves stepped in the pot.

It was much less than a deliberate examination, nothing more than a whim.  _ Where did I learn this song? _ She mused.  _ I can’t remember. _

She chuckled at herself for her forgetfulness.  _ It must be from my younger years. _ She wondered.  _ Perhaps mother sang it? _

There were emotions swelling with the rise and fall of the tune. Yet, none of them were in line with what a lullaby was supposed to be associated with. The tranquility was dry and fragile, barely masking the staggering fear that corrupted her mind.

_ But what was I afraid of? _ She questioned in bewilderment.  _ Darkness? The monster under my bed? Isolation? _

She did not expect to find answer, for they were elements too childish and irrational to be afraid of. However with each term, her heart jolted in agony.

_ I shouldn’t feel like this. _ She turned away from the kitchen, hurrying towards the window. The spacious apartment suddenly appeared claustrophobic. Her eyes darted frantically from ceilings to walls to the many furnitures that seemed to cage her.

She needed to breath. She needed to get away.

The scene changed. She was standing inside of a church, looking up at faceless angels and saints weeping streaks of colorless light. The only thing she knew of was the permanence of their entrapment.

“Can you hear them?” A voice asked behind her.

She couldn’t tear herself away from the expressionless screams. Those voiceless sorrow that seemed not to originate from the stained glass but from somewhere just below her skin. A splinter eyes couldn’t see.

“I never realized you know such a beautiful place.” She said, truthfully, but only half as earnest. “How did you come across it?”

“Mami. It’s no use.” The hand on her shoulder surprised her. Kyoko rarely made physical contact with her. “Let it go. Please.”

She opened her mouth to respond, to chide her for speaking in such a cryptic manner.  _ Will you make fun of me over such triviality? _ She wanted to say.  _ I thought you respect me enough to spare me of your frivolity. _

“Is there something you want to tell me?”

Kyoko squeezed her shoulder to the point it should hurt. But there was no pain, as if she had become incapable of it. Kyoko croaked out.

“Mami.”

She was begging.

But Sakura Kyoko never begged. She was proud, insolent, and untamable. Surely there had been a mistake. A ruse of some sort. A prank to get her reactions. Mami laughed, the hollow sound resounding within the sanctuary.

“What is your secret?”

Kyoko let go, as if she had been burnt. And in an instant, all the air in the world vanished, even sucked out from her lungs.

Mami doubled over, eyes and mind swimming as a haze overcame her.

She struggled to turn around, to look at the person she trusted even as her knees buckled. The blades of light crossing through the windows fell on her face, mangling her usually cheerful and confident grin into distorted mercy. She was holding something in her palm. Something aureate.

But it couldn’t reach her. The pools of lively crimson were hidden in the shadow she created for herself. Dead and cold.

“He who learns must suffer.”

 

* * *

 

Kyoko dreamt.

She knew it was a dream because she was flying over the city in a manner that defied logic and gravity. It could be that she was dead, and that she was perceiving the experience as a ghost (would ghost even be able to sense anything?) except for the fact that her flight was turbulent as a bird with wounded wings.

You’re not supposed to feel pain when death took hold of you, right? All the religious scriptures said so. You’re supposed to be rid of the earthly burdens, transcending with the warm bright light that purified your soul. And come to heaven’s gate.

Oh wait, she wasn’t supposed to go to heaven.

Echoing her thoughts, the sky in which she drifted in began to rain. Black fat drops. She had seen this before, hadn’t she?

Some of it got into her mouth. She tasted the bitter metal rust of blood. Her own blood. All her efforts doomed to fail from the very beginning.  _ What did I do? _ She asked the heaven.  _ What are these sins that weigh me down? _

There was no answer.

She knew at once there was no one on the throne of paradise.  _ But how? _ She screamed to the void, knowing she was at least partially responsible of it but having no recollection to the destruction itself, nor the reasons behind it.

_ What have I done? _ She begged for answers.  _ Why did I do it? _

_ What have I done? _

The world was ending, and Kyoko did not know whether to rejoice or lament. She held her hands together, palm-up, to gather the tears of the world. It contributed to nothing, she knew that, but she could not stand idle at such moment.

Perhaps it was for the same reason she helped murder God. Perhaps she had no more right to ask for answer than forgiveness. Perhaps her ignorance was her punishment.

At the edge of the world, a beam of pink and gold energy shot towards the sky, piercing and connecting all that had been wronged and lost and destroyed.

What was it? She didn’t know. But what else could it be, if not the wrath of God?

She bowed her head in shame, and was surprised to see her arms stained in blood. For a moment, she feared it was the remnants of the innocents she hurt. Then she saw the deep gushes on her side, and felt the mangled flesh that barely held her limbs and torso in one piece.

Her hands came away wet and warm after her fingers grazed over several wounds.  _ Ah. _ So it was no blood of the innocents, only the spring of her own life. She sighed in relief.  _ Maybe there is mercy after all. _

A purple flash shone in the distance, right next to the beam. It was so insignificant compared to the benevolence, so desperate.

Kyoko knew it to be the last struggle of rebellion from a soul equally anguished as herself. She knew there was nothing she could do to help. They had lost. There was never victory for them.

Yet still… Still…

She flew towards the purple light, so alone and fragile. There was nothing she could do. It wasn’t her fight to begin with.

Still…

Even if she wanted to, it was way out of her league. Her presence would change nothing.

_ But. _ She remembered thinking to herself.  _ If this is Judgement Day, then I should be there, to be condemned to hell together. _

 

* * *

 

Mami woke up gasping. Her fingers clawed in desperation for something to hold on. The bedsheet tangled her limbs, holding her to the bond of her nightmare.

_ No. Please. _ She wanted to cry out, but the words devolved to a pitiful whimper in her throat.  _ Don’t do this. _

“Mami.” A warmth pressed to her side, nuzzling against her sweat-soaked cheek. Small hands caressed her back, reassuring her with patience and encouragement. “It’s okay. You’re safe.”

She wanted to believe, but it was difficult. The pain was still too prominent, like her soul was just torn away.

Mami’s eyes snapped open. Her soul. Was it still with her? Or was she dreaming, still trapped in the illusion? She had to know.

She could feel her ring transforming, but she couldn’t see it. Where was it? Where was she?

The hands peeled away her bedsheet and touched the gem. The comfort was instantaneous, like cool water against a burn. She sighed.

“You’re okay.” The voice emphasized again. Nagisa’s voice. “Everything’s alright.”

Mami relaxed. She let the girl help her out of the confinement. “Sorry.” Her voice was still shaky, and a little hoarse.

“I don’t want apology.” Nagisa touched the Soul Gem gently. “I just want Mami to feel okay again.”

With the sheet finally off, Mami sat up and wrapped her arms around the girl. “I know.” She choked, smiling. “And I do, now. So thank you.”

Nagisa nuzzled deeper into her embrace.

“Can you tell me again?” Mami murmured. “Tell me about the day before it ended?”

Nagisa nodded. Her face buried in her bosoms and her messy hair tickling Mami’s chin. “Something happened that morning.” She began quietly. “ _ She _ fainted. Sayaka thought it was because of the… that it was  _ her _ fault.”

They would never know what exactly triggered the chain of events. No one in this world possessed such knowledge. Sometimes Mami would wonder, would theorize what the two people in the center of the hurricane might have experienced. She always came to the conclusion revolving around sufferings.

“So Miki-san confronted  _ her _ .” Mami said.

She had no recollection of that, of course, but she had heard it enough times to know what came next in the tale. Only it was not made up. It was lost.

“Yeah. But Kyoko stepped in.”

An image came to her. This one definite. Of a red warrior clad in grim determination, with the body of her limp companion slumped in her arms. Another one of her invention.

“And we-” She swallowed thickly, unable to continue.

“We were home.” Nagisa reminded her. “We didn’t know what happened until the beam.”

“If I had known…”

“Mami.” Nagisa laid a hand over hers, and squeezed. “It wasn’t anyone’s fault.”

She still felt awful. “But if I had known, she might not need to go through all that.” She protested. “She would not have to betray anyone.”

“And she didn’t.” Nagisa corrected her. “Kyoko didn’t betray anyone. She kept your Soul Gem safe.”

“Yes, but at what cost?” Mami wondered aloud. “Sakura-san might have saved me, and even  _ her _ . But in the end, I couldn’t help but think she betrayed herself.”

“Maybe.” Nagisa appeased her. “Still, it wasn’t anyone’s fault. You can’t blame yourself for the what-ifs.  _ She _ did that, and nearly destroyed everything important to her.”

Mami sighed. “You are right.” She held on a little tighter. “Of course, you are right. I just…”

“I know. I wish things turned out differently too.” Nagisa’s lamented. “But we did our best.”

They stayed in each other’s comfort for a few minutes longer, until strength returned to Mami’s heart. The blonde pried herself away and smiled sheepishly at her young charge.

“We should get ready.” She said. “I think the alarm will go off any moment now.”

“Aw.”

Mami chuckled at Nagisa’s pout. She combed through her pale hair. “You can nap a little longer. I will wake you after breakfast is ready.”

Nagisa nodded happily and threw herself back onto the mattress. She was back to snoozing within seconds.

Mami laid a kiss on her forehead before she got up. She cancelled the alarm on her phone, which would not activate for another half an hour.

Then she paused, a different idea came to her. She typed up a short message to Sayaka and waited for a few minutes. There was no reply.

_ It was still early. _ She reasoned with herself.  _ But maybe… _

She sat down on the bed again and shook Nagisa gently, who whined with one half-open eye. “Mmmm?”

“Sorry.” Mami smiled. “But I was thinking… maybe we can go visit Sakura-san and Yuma-chan.”

The sleep left Nagisa’s eyes. She grinned broadly. “I bet Sayaka will want to come too.”

“I have no doubt.”

They washed themselves and picked up their school bags. Mami packed some frozen pancakes and fruits, and gave Nagisa some money for lunch. They set out into the early morning, shrouded in misty metallic blue.

It was chilly. The sun was hidden well behind thick layers of clouds and early autumn wind.

Mami tried calling Sayaka, but again there was no response. She thought about paying her a visit at her residence. On the other hand, though, it was entirely possible Sayaka had sneaked out already to see Kyoko. Maybe that was why she hadn’t picked up…

The thought brought a slight blush to her cheeks and Mami chided herself for such scandalous speculation. It was none of her business besides.

Though, she must say, there was strong chemistry between those two. They had been great for each other. Mami found it difficult not to be hopeful of their relationship. Especially in the face of recent events.

They headed for the canal, crossing the overpass that led into downtown Mitakihara. There weren’t many people about yet, most of them joggers or elders. They greeted the odd combo with a polite nod and strange look, and went on their way.

Mami and Nagisa chatted quietly as they followed the train tracks that ran parallel to their right-hand side. Their path trailed along the outskirt of the shopping district. The air was considerably fresher, and the scenery more pleasant. She could smell the lake west to the crossroad ahead.

“We should have a picnic by the water when the weather improves.” She said.

“Hmmm. Only a few weeks left this year then.” Nagisa commented. “Otherwise it’ll be too cold.”

“Yes. That is true.”

Perhaps noticing the wistfulness in her tone, Nagisa squeezed her hand. “There’s always next year.”

Mami smiled.

A sudden gust of wind rattled her hair and clothes. She looked up, catching the glint of the lake at the bottom of the slanted slope. The sharp glare stunned her for a moment, jolting her painfully like an electric shock.

But there was no sun. Where did the gleam come from?

And the wisp of aroma… the familiar undercurrent of darjeeling she favored, accompanied by the sweet smell of shortbread. She could even taste the pastries. Her own recipes.

Except she also knew, irrationally, that there was something poisonous underneath. A voracity for companionship.

Terror rooted her to the street under the gloomy Tuesday sky. The nightmares woke to the summon, coming alive as incoherent fragment that threatened to change the reality she sought to protect. They had lived inside her all her life. No. They were from the very beginning parts of her, the tumor named despair.

She couldn’t move. There was nowhere to escape to. The tidal wave was coming and she could see the faint outline of the monster. She both wanted and dreaded to know what it was.

“Mami?”

She blinked, and they all faded away. The wind ceased. The lake darkened. Scents of grass and unfallen rain replaced that of tea and pastries. 

And she was no longer alone. Nagisa was tugging her arm again.

She smiled. “Nothing.” She tried to convince herself. “I just spaced out a little. Sorry. It was nothing.”

Nagisa held her gaze for a moment.

“Just remember I’m here with you.” She said quietly. “I’ll always be here with you.”

Mami nodded and pulled her along, taking a right turn on the crossroad towards the city center. She looked over her shoulder one last time before they entered the domain of the concrete jungle.

The lake winked knowingly at her one last time.

 

* * *

 

Kyoko woke up.

She was still alive. The agony from everywhere told her as much. Death would not have been this excruciating. Such sufferings could only be experienced by the livings.

She could barely see, for half her face was torn to shreds in a battle she could not recall. Every attempt to breathe threatened to suffocate her as blood boiled in her lungs. It was unbearable. She tried to block it, shutting out all the agony, but she couldn’t. She had forgotten how. Even blinking, even breathing required tremendous effort to remember.

_ Don’t give up. _ A soft voice said in her head.  _ Just hang on, just a little further. _

_ I can’t. _ She told the voice.  _ This is it. _

A different voice piped up in her head, contrasting the first voice in every way possible.  _ You can, and you will. _ It said in a sort of annoyed indifference.  _ You wished to repent. _

_ Wouldn’t death be a better penance? _ She challenged.

_ No! _ The first voice replied indignantly.  _ They need you. You can’t give up now. _

The second voice paused.  _ I told you to stay alive. _ It mocked her. _ This is your absolution. _

And thus Kyoko pushed her upper body off the ground, with a primal howl that never quite leave her lips, which were fused shut by dried blood. She gritted and pulled herself forward with what remained of her arms, inch by inch.

It hurt no more, and no less. She dragged herself through the forest floor, leaving a trail of dark maroon behind.

And all she could think about, as she glared defiantly through the haze to the apartment well beyond her sight, was one simple idea. Something that held a very cripple resemblance to hope.

If today is the day she dies, she  _ will _ see Sayaka’s face one last time.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “He who learns must suffer. And even in our sleep pain that cannot forget falls drop by drop upon the heart, and in our own despair, against our will, comes wisdom to us by the awful grace of God.” – Aeschylus


	23. Chapter 23

Sayaka was furious.

“Why?”

She demanded from her silent opponent. The traitor who forsook everything they stood for. The stranger who wore the skin of her best friend did not even look at her. She was gazing at the brilliant beam of pure energy. The Goddess’ power.

“Tell me.” She pleaded. “Please.”

The only response was a faraway look. She could not reach her, no matter how loud or how many times she screamed. They were merely steps away from one another, a distance so short they could leap onto the other in a fraction of a second, given their boosted strength and agility. Yet this was the farthest Sayaka had ever felt they had been. At some point an abyss had split the grounds upon which they stood.

“Why?” She asked again. It was only when she heard her own voice she realized she had been crying. “Kyoko, why?”

As if forced by the utterance of her name, Kyoko turned. The cocky grin that seemed molded to her face in this world had disappeared without a trace. Perhaps just like everything else in this fabricated reality, it was also a crude hoax.

But there was something else there too. Something profoundly familiar in the way Kyoko’s lips twitched upward as she raised her spear to point at her rival. At Sayaka.

Enemy. They were enemies now. They had stood as such before, hundreds of times, with thousands of varying background. The only thing constant throughout was that they were about to fight, and judging from the cold gleam in Kyoko’s eyes, to the death.

Sayaka raised her saber in response automatically. And it was at that instance Kyoko charged, spear breaking into too many fragments to be accounted for.

The chains wrapped around her blade, easily breaking it to pieces. The force knocked the blue-haired knight off-balance. In the next moment, the butt of the spear collided into her stomach, sending her sailing backwards.

Sayaka stood from the rubbles, another saber already forming in her hand. All she could see was red.

She charged, screaming, weeping, as their normal daily life shattered under the weight of reality along with her heart.

 

* * *

 

An hour before Mami woke from her nightmare, before the violet of the sky began to fade, Sayaka was already racing down the street where Mami would soon travel.

She had felt restless ever since she got home. Perhaps it was her attachment, or the insecurity that seemed a requisite to all teenagers, misery plagued her. She could not find sleep the previous night. Everytime she closed her eyes, everytime she drifted between the realms of memories and dreams, she would wake with a start as scenarios regarding Kyoko’s many deaths in all those timelines visited her.

When she woke from the half-memory of her last battle with Kyoko, in Homura’s world, Sayaka could no longer wait idly for the morning. She had to go see Kyoko. And she knew it was driven by an urge greater than simple impulse or starstruck fondness.

Even now, the scene replayed itself in her head like a broken record.

 

* * *

 

So great was her anguish at that time, she poured all her frustration and hurt into that battle. She failed to realize how Kyoko turned her aggressive offense to the opposite. The transition was gradual, natural, and almost imperceptible. If nothing else, it proved what a crafty warrior Kyoko was.

By the time Sayaka realized Kyoko had stopped putting up much of a fight, she barely managed to stop her saber from piercing the red gem lodged on the redhead’s chest.

Her blade ended up impaling Kyoko’s right shoulder, causing her to loosen her grip around her spear. It clanged loudly against the ground before burning away in purple flames. Kyoko dropped to her knees with a soft hiss. Several expressions fleeted past. Pain, surprise, pride, then acceptance.

Sayaka released the sword immediately, as if it burnt. Standing over her, she saw her weapon dissolved into bubbles, and she noticed all the cuts and bruises. Wounds inflicted by herself.

Their eyes met. Sayaka was shaking as she read her muted request. It was the same as her resolution when the fight began, to end their sufferings.

She summoned another saber and laid its point against Kyoko’s Soul Gem. The trembling made aiming difficult.

Kyoko closed her eyes and relaxed.

And Sayaka was thinking how unfair it was. How could Kyoko look so peaceful? How could someone who lost everything smile like she had no more regret?

Then she was thinking. I know why. And it became too painful to look at Kyoko’s face. Because she realized then that  _ she _ was the one with regret. Because this time around, she wasn’t the one who left. What made Sayaka determined to put an end personally was the same thing that drove Kyoko to betraying everyone, including Mami.

Everything leading up to that moment, and for a long time afterwards, Sayaka resented Kyoko. Because Kyoko was the only one who believed she was not good enough for Sayaka and gave up.

But the truth was, Sakura Kyoko was the only person who could save Miki Sayaka.

That hurt a lot more than Kyoko’s betrayal. Because it meant, despite Sayaka doing all the right things and upholding justice, it was still Kyoko who was doing the saving.

And there was nothing Sayaka could do for her.

There was inevitably only a single outcome that could be. Sayaka raised her sword above her head. If she just let go and allow gravity to take over, this would all end. That was what she had been fighting for, wasn’t it? To stop the grief.

She had to free her. To free both of them.

Instead, she threw it away. The blade clattered in protest as she slid down to the ground herself and they were at eye-level.

Kyoko opened her eyes with a small frown. Their eyes met again. Sayaka felt sick to her core.

“I-” She reached out, not really sure what she was trying to do. Her fingertips brushed against Kyoko’s cheeks, and she latched onto it. “I can’t.” She wept. Her hands wrinkled Kyoko’s collar. “I can’t do it.”

Whatever was going through Kyoko’s mind, she did not say it. Sayaka did not know whether it was a conscious choice or the result of her inability to express herself. The redhead put her arms around Sayaka’s shoulders, held her close one last time. The gentleness with which the action was performed was almost cruel.

The embrace lasted for a lifetime and no time at all.

Finally, Kyoko unwrapped her arms around Sayaka, and pushed her away. She stood up, smiled, and left without looking back.

 

* * *

 

That had always been the worst. Because it was still so fresh. There was no resolution. Kyoko failed to maintain the illusion, and Sayaka failed to stop Kyoko.

Everytime the event came to haunt her in her dream, Sayaka would wake up cold and sobbing. So last night when she cried herself awake, she simply turned her head and wailed into her pillow. She had done it enough times to know how to not wake her parents.

When she calmed down, she got out of bed. It was difficult to convince the girl looking back from the bathroom mirror, with bloodshot eyes and trembling lips, that everything was alright. Even the scorching water from the faucet could not sooth the chill numbing her limbs. What she needed was the warmth of another person. What she needed most was to see Kyoko. To see her, feel her, and to listen to every breath she drew.

So she went back to her room, got dressed, scribbled down a note about going to school early to catch up on homework, grabbed her bag, and bolted out of the door.

She sprinted the whole way to Homura’s apartment. With each step she took she could feel a little bit of strength and confidence returning. The exercise took the wind out of her by the time she reached the front gate, but she felt alive.

The building was quiet as it had always been. Her footsteps echoed like war-drums as she flew up the stairs. Nothing was out of the ordinary, yet she pushed herself to run faster. She raced down the hallway at such speed that could compete for her agility as a Puella Magi, but it still felt like a lifetime.

When her fingers grasped the doorknob, the only sound became her gasping and the loud thumps of her heart. She twisted it. The door gave way effortlessly and she stumbled inside.

All the lights were on, but at first glance it appeared empty. She spied no movements. But as she crept further in and got her breathing under control, she began to hear a sound other than silence. Someone was snoring softly.

Sayaka tiptoed forward without knowing why.

The first thing she spotted when she entered the living room was Yuma’s twin buns poking out from the back of the couch. Sayaka stopped and surveyed the room. It was exactly as she left it from the previous night.

Unnerved by the lack of any shade of crimson in the vicinity, Sayaka moved to the front of the couch. She knelt beside the sleeping girl, and gently shook her shoulders.

“Yuma-chan?”

"…hmm?” Yuma groaned, struggling to sit up and open her eyes at the same time. Her voice was soft with drowsiness and quiet with hope. “Kyoko?”

Sayaka’s heart sank.

“Sorry to wake you.” She struggled to keep her voice leveled. The attempt was somewhat successful. But her effort at keeping herself from panicking was a completely different story. “But have you seen…?”

Yuma blinked several times before comprehension hit her. She looked towards the windows, and seemed appalled by the faintly growing light outside.

“No.” She whispered weakly. “Is Kyoko-”

Sayaka didn’t wait to hear the rest of her question. She was already taking out her phone to dial Mami. Something was wrong. Something must have gone horribly wrong. Kyoko wouldn’t have left Yuma all alone last night. She wouldn’t have stayed out hunting when she knew Yuma was waiting for her at home.

She felt the distinct sting that made it difficult to read the list of contact displayed on the screen of her phone. A black-hole opened in the pit of her stomach, threatening to devour her from the inside out. Thoughts and images flashed past her mind. Oktavia was screaming.

She shouldn’t have left her last night.

She shouldn’t have left she shouldn’t have left she shouldn’t have. Something must have happened and she should have been here and where was Kyoko now and what happened to her and was the dream a warning for this and  _ god _ if she lost her again-

_ Tap. _

Everything halted.

Sayaka froze. She turned to Yuma, and saw the child was also staring wide-eyed back.

“Did you hear that?”

Yuma opened her mouth, but before she could say anything, there it was again.

_ Tap. _

It was then followed by a different sound. First of something wet dragged across plastic surface, or glass. Then something like a pile of wet clothes hitting the floor.

They turned at the same time. And Sayaka’s heart nearly stopped.

Thick, dark, unmistakable maroon smeared across one of the windows. Like the careless stroke of an amateur artist, against the grayish blue canvass of daybreak.

They both scrambled to the window. Sayaka shoved it open with enough force she nearly broke the glass.

There, lying unconscious on the pavement one story below, sprawled in a pool of growing red, was Kyoko.

What happened next was a blur. They must have run out and somehow carried Kyoko back up. Because when Sayaka could think again, she was kneeling in front of the moderately sized bed, staring at Kyoko’s face, paler than the moon. The bedsheet was soaked through, as was her own uniform.

Yuma was next to her, rocking back and forth as she sobbed helplessly.

Sayaka was vaguely aware that she must be in shock. This calm detachment was only a prelude before she  surrender herself completely to hysteria. It was like she was watching all these from somewhere far away. Like she hit the eject button.

She wondered if this was what happened to Kyoko when her emotions were sealed.

“Yuma.” She heard herself say, stiffly, quietly. “Could you please find my phone?”

She didn’t even realize she had lost it. At some point during the chaos she must have dropped it.

Yuma made a strangled sound and bolted away.

Sayaka reached out and pressed one blood-drenched hand against Kyoko’s neck. She noted the contrast between the steadfastness of her hand and the eccentricity of the pulse. She also noted the jagged rise and fall of Kyoko’s chest, the damp coldness of her skin, and all the red.

_ Red is Kyoko’s color. _ She thought numbly.  _ If I don’t stop this, all the color will be drained from her. _

And would she become like Madoka and Homura? Would she disappear? Would Sayaka one day inevitably forget about her?

“I found it!” Yuma shouted as she scrambled back to her side. She held the phone out nervously. “Here.”

Sayaka spared a glance at it. The screen was cracked. She tried to nod, but her whole body was locked up.

“I need you to do something for me.” She said to Yuma. “Call Mami-san.”

If Yuma was surprised, she wisely chose not to vocalize it. Instead she took a few steps back and began sifting through Sayaka’s contact list.

Sayaka checked Kyoko’s other vitals. Her body temperature was still slipping, and she could barely feel her pulse. The rise and fall of her chest continued to slow, near halting at times. When she held one of her eyelids open, the pupils were rolled back.

Theoretically, Puella Magi could survive anything as long as their Soul Gems were not destroyed. Given enough time and magic, they could even reform their entire bodies. But that required  _ a lot _ of magic. She didn’t know exactly how much.

(Yuma was speaking. She couldn’t process the words.)

There were too many wounds on her body. Sayaka took off her uniform sweater and began shredding it to long threads. She wrapped them around Kyoko’s badly mangled legs, covered up the holes on her stomach, but Kyoko’s left arm…

“… you can help us?”

Her arm. His arm.

Sayaka blinked, like she only just woke up.

“…and Kyoko’ll be okay?”

She whirled around.

She thought Yuma was talking to Mami, but now she realized she never heard the phone being dialed. And sure enough, Yuma was not holding the device to her ear. She was looking at the opened window and talking to something sitting on its frame.

“If you can really heal Kyoko…”

The first emotion to return was rage.

“Yuma!” She called harshly. “Come here.”

Yuma jumped in surprise. She looked back to Sayaka guiltily, like she was caught with her hand in the cookie jar. “But Kyuubey said…” She hesitated, looking to the window again.

“He’s a liar.” Sayaka declared. She stretched her blood-soaked hand to the girl, commanding. “Now come over here and help me.”

Yuma wavered, but obeyed in the end.

“I’m sorry.” She murmured, ashamed. “I didn’t mean to…”

Sayaka willed herself to move. She pulled Yuma into a tight embrace.

“I know. But you can never trust him.” She said sternly. “Do not trust him, ever. And never contract with him.”

“But Kyoko-”

“She will never forgive herself if you contract because of her.”

Yuma began crying again. “Kyuubey said Kyoko’s going to die.”

Sayaka loosened her embrace. “I won’t let her die.” She said. “I won’t allow it.”

“How?”

She took a deep breath. There was only one thing she could do, and it was something only she could do.

“There’s a pouch in the bottom drawer.” She said. “Go fetch it for me, okay?”

“What…?”

But Sayaka wasn’t listening. She reached up and pulled off her hairpins. She discarded the one she used on Yuma months ago, and held the other in her palm.

This was the only token she had left.

As she held it between her fingers, she heard the orchestra playing again. She wondered whether this would be the last time.

‘Do you wonder what comes next?’ Oktavia hummed. ‘Is there still a heaven?’

‘I don’t know.’ Sayaka admitted. ‘Maybe, and maybe not.’

‘Do you regret it?’

‘There’s always something to regret.’ She paused, pressing the hairpin against Kyoko’s Soul Gem. ‘Are we selfish for doing this?’

‘All is fair in love and war.’

Then, Oktavia began to sing. The notes leapt around her fingers as blue light traveled outwards, engulfing herself and Kyoko.

She saw an abyss through where they were connected. A lake as deep as despair. She shuddered at the familiar chill, and let herself be guided through the depth. Shattered pieces of stained-glass and broken busts of the saints floated past. Torn pages dissolved into darkness.

She began mending them. Building, weaving, collecting. Her touch was delicate, for she knew this to be the ruin of and honor.

She heard Yuma gasping from somewhere to her left. A voice above the water. She continued with her task, arranging the pieces together like a great puzzle. The walls and spires. The stained glass. The pews and altar. The forest standing faithful. At last, when the final candle was lit, she found her.

She wore the pastor’s robe, kneeling before the cross with bowed head, hands and eyes closed in prayer. Long red locks cascaded down her back, like she was cleansed by divine flames. Bathed in the glory of heaven, there seemed a halo above her head.

And there was music, voices from the angels themselves. Words of grace and deliverance.

But Kyoko was ignorant of them, head still bowed as if awaiting the guillotine to fall. For Hell’s inferno.

Sayaka approached in hesitant steps, unsure whether she would make matters better or worse.

When she reached the bottom of the stairs, something fell into her palm. She looked down, perplexed. She knew it to be an object she had possessed for a long time, yet she could not recall, nor imagine, what it could be.

‘Forgotten is not lost.’ A voice said.

She opened her palm. There laid a golden rosary embedded with unblemished ruby.

‘Go.’ The voice said to her again. ‘Only you can.’

She began to climb, carrying the prize she never knew she held.

With each step, the music grew louder. First the low murmur of church organ, echoing in the chamber like gentle waves lapping against the prow of a gondola. Then the crisp airiness of violin, round and full as the wing of a bird soaring high in the sky.

When she heard the violin, she paused and looked over her shoulder.

The boy who always had his back to her now turned, playing the instrument with a kind smile. He was beautiful, but not in the same way the person whom he was inspired from was.

Sayaka was overwhelmed.

It was not the purity in his eyes that touched her, but the understanding that there was something greater to all of these, and she just now saw it.

A part of her had always known she was in love with the idea of him. The passion he had for his violin. She had written it off wistfully as something she would never have and eventually let go.

However, now she realized the truth. Even if the real him never noticed nor reciprocated her feelings, she never lost that love. Because he was not the source.  _ She  _ was. The bliss. The contentment. They were all part of  _ her _ . And no one could take them away. Even herself.

When she let go, she was really just averting her eyes from that part of her.

But now she didn’t have to. The violin would always live on in her. The passion never vanished just because she could not be with the boy who played it, instead, it was reborn to a different form. One she was determined to protect.

She turned back and continued up the steps. The ascent was effortless, as if the whole world had come to her aid. A gust of wind lifted her higher. Higher, and closer.

Halfway up the steps, she heard the soprano. The only voice in the trio that gave words to the emotion. The only that tried, failed, and tried again to express what could only be felt. It was clumsy, uncertain, and anguished. But pure.

At last she reached the altar. She knelt in front of the praying girl and reached out.

She might not be religious, nor did she have a clue of the proper way the church provided absolution for sinners. But she did know a thing or two about forgiveness. (You kind of have to pick up on it after becoming part of a benevolent goddess.)

And more importantly, she knew what she had to do because it came from her heart.

She gently pried open the clasped hands. Their palms joined by the rosary.

Kyoko’s eyelids fluttered.

“I believe.”

Sayaka cupped Kyoko’s cheeks, pressing their foreheads together. She whispered, pouring everything she had into those words.

“I believe this is a story where love and courage triumph.”

 


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You might want to watch out for the sugar.

Yuma watched the scene unfold in amazement. The blue light filled every corner of the room, even bending around edges of furnitures and wedging under the cracks. The whole room was aglow with musical notes, as if the very air in the room had transcended into a purer, higher form. The holy river, the fountain of life.

She made a vague recollection of the same light coming to her aid, dispelling the dark chill that nearly buried her beneath the abandoned church. It must have been nearly half a year now, but she remembered its warmth still.

But this was different. Stronger. More intense. Not just warm but also passionate.

“Yuma,” Sayaka spoke from her side at Kyoko, serene as a lotus adrift. “The pouch?”

She blinked and found herself next to her guardians. It was like her body floated there on its own accord.

Sayaka reached in, pulling one Grief Seed after another from the bag. They were placed carefully around Kyoko’s Soul Gem, forming an imperfect circle. She saw no faint wisps of darkness coming out, but the gem pulsed, and grew brighter and brighter.

The wounds began to heal. First, the open gashes curled inward, like mimosa leaves. When the petals touched, the flesh seemed to melt together. All in one seamless motion.

Sayaka’s hands flowed slowly away from the center, musical notes continuing to dance around her fingertips. And like a true miracle, where her hands touched, even just briefly, all injuries and blood faded as if they had never been there.

Yuma’s eyes were big as saucers when Sayaka finally paused at Kyoko’s mangled stump. This must be the limit. She thought helplessly. A sharp pang of distress came upon her.

But instead, the blue-haired girl began to move again. Her fingers traced along an invisible contour, as if drawing the shape from her memories. She started from the shoulder, working downward slowly, as if molding a particularly stubborn clay.

Except the clay was thin air, and she was molding it into the shape of an arm.

Yuma stared slack-jawed.

Sayaka continued downward. The musical notes spun faster and faster around her hands until they were only a blur. The blue light grew, surging to her palms, then wrists, arms, until her entire body seemed to beam.

“Just…” Sayaka whispered. “A little longer……”

Her forehead was covered in sweat, and her brows furrowed together in great effort, as if struggling against some undercurrent. Yuma shuffled behind her nervously, unsure whether there was anything she could do to help.

She dared not risk breaking Sayaka’s concentration. Being a burden to her protectors once was already one time too many. Until she found a clue, nothing was all there was to do.

Despite her distress, the procedure ended smoothly. Yuma didn’t even realize it was over until Sayaka retracted her hands. Her bang stuck to her cheeks and the bridge of her nose. She was pale, and trembling, but there was such joy. Such relief in every muscles of her face that Yuma almost broke out cheering.

Sayaka wobbled, but caught herself before she could collide into Yuma. She looked up, past Yuma’s shoulders.

“You have no reason to be here anymore.” She said suddenly, with venom. “Be gone, Incubator.”

Ah. That’s right. It was still waiting for the conclusion of the contract.

She had completely forgotten about the alien. It sat where it had first appeared, balancing precariously on the windowsill. All alone and distant.

Yuma felt somewhat sorry for the furry creature. She could not recall an instance since their acquaintance where the Incubator was treated without animosity. All Puella Magis seemed to despise it for one reason or another. She supposed those who had yet contracted might have behaved differently, but she had never witnessed such girl (in large part due to Kyoko’s insistence she hid in the church).

Kyuubey sat perfectly still, observing the room with its soulless red eyes.

“That is incorrect. There is always a wish to be made.” It said with sagacious courtesy. But its eyes stayed on Yuma, like it was speaking not solely in response to Sayaka’s statement. “But I digress. My presence is unwelcomed, and I shall take my leave.”

It looked at Yuma one last time before leaping off the window and disappearing into thin air.

Yuma relayed what was said to Sayaka, who smiled tiredly.

“There’s always a wish. There’s always a girl.” She agreed. “But if we lose ourselves, what good is the wish anyway?”

“Sayaka-neechan…?”

Sayaka beckoned her closer.

“Don’t worry about it.” Her arms barely lifted to the necessary height to wrap around Yuma. “She’s gonna be okay.” She sighed. Her chin rested on the top of Yuma’s head, heavy as her voice. The words tumbled out from her mouth, more and more sluggishly. “Kyoko’s…”

She wobbled again and this time did tip over.

Even though Yuma anticipated such development, she still had to put her whole weight in to keep Sayaka, who was considerably bigger, from sprawling on top of herself.

“Ah. Sorry…” Sayaka mumbled. “I’m a little tired. Can you help me down?”

Yuma nodded. She did her best to support her weight, but they still ended up nearly crashing to the floor. Sayaka stuck out a hand just in time to prevent dragging the yelping Yuma down with her.

She was panting. Her limbs were dead-weights, but her head was light as feather. This was what she felt when she exhausted her reserve when she last fought Wraiths. Just before Madoka came for her, taking away all her sorrow, all her despair, and all her burdens.

But now? There was no sorrow nor despair to be relieved of her. She was not asking for a helping hand. She wanted very much to continue carrying this new burden she had finally gained.

Yuma helped her lean against the bed. Sayaka thanked the child for her kindness and patted the spot next to her.

“Would you like to hear a story?”

Yuma hesitated, but nodded.

“That’s good.” Sayaka began to nod as well, before she stopped abruptly. Her head felt like it might float away. “But you have to promise something, okay?”

Yuma sat next to her, but did not answer.

“You have to promise…” She was dizzy, so she closed her eyes. “You have to promise you’ll never contract.”

It might be presumptuous and selfish of her to ask such. Maybe one day there would be a reason she should choose such treacherous path over what was otherwise available. Sayaka was well aware of that. In fact, if she had the chance to start over, she probably would end up contracting again. Weak as she might be, she would not trade away her right to fight alongside Kyoko so easily.

There were many reasons she asked this. Concern for Yuma’s well-being was one, certainly. She wanted to prevent Yuma from being deceived into a life where she had to struggle to find hope. But there was more. So much more.

She wanted to be the only person to follow Kyoko into battle. She wanted Kyoko to stress less about gathering Grief Cubes. She wanted to spite the Incubators. And also, a part of her knew, when that inevitable day came…

“Okay.” Yuma murmured quietly, after a long moment. “Okay, I promise.”

Sayaka forced herself to open her eyes and twist her neck to properly look at Yuma. “Good girl.” She patted her lovingly. “And remember, a promise made must be a promise kept.”

“I’ll remember.”

“It’s neither magic nor miracle that could really save people.”

“Kyoko said something like that too.”

Sayaka smiled. Of course she did. Because Sayaka borrowed it from her herself. It was good to know some things never changed, even across time and worlds. She wrapped an arm over Yuma’s tiny shoulders.

To her surprise, the girl took it as an invitation and climbed onto her lap. Her head rested in the crook of her neck as her small body curled up in her embrace, seeking shelter.

Perhaps Yuma sensed her fear, and this was her way of comforting her. Sayaka appreciated it regardless of the reason.

“Now, I promised to tell you a story.” She began, cuddling the child closer.

Oh my. She thought. Where did it begin? How did it begin?

A long long time ago… that wasn’t quite right. It wasn’t until she was part of the Law of Cycle that she began to comprehend its passage and repetition.

In the faraway land… well, that didn’t make much sense either. Technically everything happened in this city.

Once upon a time… ah, yes. That’s it.

Once upon a time, a girl asked for magic and miracle, to heal the prince she had adored since she was a child. In exchange of his happiness, the girl gave up her voice. She wished the prince, who was now free from sorrow, would be able to see her.

Unfortunately, the implied part of her wish was not granted. The prince met a beautiful princess, and they fell in love. The girl was distraught, for she had no voice to express her feelings for him. All she could do was weep by the ocean, where she first heard and fell in love with his music. Where her tears would become a part of the great vastness of the world.

One day, a traveller rode by the ocean, and laughed at her futility. The girl was quite offended by the traveller’s indifference to her plight.

The traveller did not seem to mind her displeasure. “You think too much and do too little.” The traveller said with a taunting smirk.

The girl raged at the unkind words, calling the traveller many things equally unkind. The traveller did not object, but listened to the very end, until the girl was perched and too exhausted to remember her misery.

“Well, I still think you’re an idiot.” The traveller said at last, getting up from the ground and swatting the sand off. “Why don’t you start thinking about what you want? What you truly want?”

The girl glared at the traveller, but was ignored. The traveller got back onto the horse grazing nearby and rode off.

To the girl’s immense surprise and displeasure, the traveller came back the next day. And the day after. And every day henceforth.

“Why won’t you start thinking about what you really want?” The traveller would ask.

And the girl would glare at her in defiance.

“Well, then.” The traveller would say with a laughing sneer, and would get back to the horse and ride off.

It continued for a while. Even though the girl was annoyed with the traveller who ridiculed her for everything she did, she found some comfort for not being completely alone. Perhaps it was comradery.

Then one day, the war began.

The girl was by the ocean again, gazing out into the wide blueness. She sat there thinking about nothing, until at last the sun fell below the ocean. It was the first time she had been alone. The girl realized. And she didn’t know since when, but she had been waiting for the traveller to come by.

The girl got up from the beach and walked back to the palace.

As she approached the gate, she saw columns of soldiers marching out and away. She hid herself in the shadow beyond torchlight and watched, envious of their shining armor and prestigious dignity.

Only, not all of them dressed nobly. The girl saw the traveller amongst the pristine knights, shaggy and worn, standing out like a sore thumb. She wanted to call out, but she had no voice. It was then the girl remembered. She never did say a word to the traveller. She began wondering how the traveller always understood what she was thinking.

Back in the palace, the girl learned about the traveller. She was a knight. A disgraced one, but a knight nevertheless.

Day and night, the girl prayed for the traveller’s safe return. She wished to the stars, to the ocean, to all powers she could imagine, for one more chance to speak with the traveller.

The traveller never returned. The girl never got the chance to say ‘thank you’.

The flame of war engulfed all kingdoms, and soon the world ended.

In true miracle, the girl was reborn to a new world. A different world. She lost her magic but regained her voice.

She lost everything she once knew.

But she found the disgraced knight.

Sayaka stopped there. She was rasping now and could barely hear her own words. Maybe this was the end. Not the happy ending she hoped for, but a sweeter one than what was given before.

“Sayaka-neechan?” Yuma looked up to her in worry. Her tiny fists balled around her collars. “What happens after?”

“That…” She could barely manage a whisper. Her consciousness was shaded in varying degree of achromatism. “I’m afraid that’s the end of the story.”

She was so tired. Maybe she should take a nap. She couldn’t tell if her eyelids were open or not.

“I’ll just…” She slurred. “Just a little bit…”

Wake me up when September ends. When the long summer finally comes to an end, and all leaves fall like broken hearts.

She was drifting away with them, like the petals of bellflower. She slumped back, gaze resting on the faraway stars. Maybe it wouldn’t be too bad. Maybe she would get to see Madoka, and even the transfer student. And maybe they would wait together, until everyone’s time eventually ran out.

Just as she began to float, something dragged her back down. Like an anchor.

Her body twitched in protest. But she couldn’t get free from it.

“The story’s not done yet.” Said a hoarse voice.

Sayaka recognized that voice.

Everything began to come back into focus. She blinked once. The stars disappeared. She blinked again. And she felt something prodding at her consciousness. A figure bathed in light. A pastor who finally rose from her knees.

She looked up, and saw the brightest stars in the universe, twinkling down at her, shining always and only on her, warm and gentle.

“The story’s not over yet.” Kyoko repeated. Her hand squeezed down firmly on Sayaka’s shoulder. “You haven’t explained why the girl was such an idiot.”

Sayaka chuckled, still weak from the exertion. But her strength was returning.

Well, not really. Rather, it was given to her. Shared through the connection that had yet to be severed between them. The touch of her very soul conveyed everything. Her burning passion, for life, for hope, for…

The key had turned in the lock. And although the door wasn’t completely open yet, it was the glimmer of light at the end of the tunnel.

Sayaka reached for the hand on her shoulder, and intertwined their fingers.

“Do you really want to know?” She asked with a playful smile.

Kyoko smirked back at her, saying everything with no words.

Her hand was warm. Real. Strong yet tender to the touch. Sayaka nuzzled into her touch like a newborn pup.

Another voice joined Octavia’s song for the first time. The orchestra booming in the background, the drums matching her heartbeat. She accepted the magic gladly, almost greedily. Kyoko’s magic. The ecstasy washing over was addictive.

And Kyoko showed no intention to stop, nor restrict her. She gave Sayaka all she desired, pouring over her life force just as eagerly…

“Ahem.”

Sayaka stumbled out from the height with a start.

Kyoko was no less startled. She lost her balance and crashed to the floor next to her with a loud thud. Grimacing as she sat up, she sent a menacing glare to the source of that noise, which came from the door.

And from no other than Mami.

She looked like she was overheating.

“I-We-We’re sorry to interrupt.” The blonde blabbered. Her eyes would not meet Kyoko or Sayaka, trained stubbornly on a tile only a few feet in front of her. “But it’s almost time to head to school oh wait no I didn’t mean you have to leave right now actually I’ll just take Yuma-chan and Nagisa to-”

“Come on. Mamiiii.” Nagisa whined. Her caretaker’s larger hands covered the upper half of her face, but not her mouth. She was pouting. “Why’re you covering my eyes? It wouldn’t be anything I haven’t seen before.”

Mami looked equal parts shocked and scandalized. Her face had gotten so red one couldn’t help but worry whether she was about to faint in a moment.

And although Nagisa probably didn’t mean to suggest anything utterly inappropriate, Sayaka heard the implication. Her own cheeks had heated up to the point where it could probably cook eggs.

“Whatcha mean?” Yuma, innocent Yuma, tilted her head in confusion. “They’re just-”

“ _Oh my look at the time!_ ” Mami squeaked, dashing forward and seemingly levitated Yuma from her spot in Sayaka’s lap. All the while still somehow maintaining her iron grip over Nagisa’s vision. “Come, Yuma-chan. It’s time to go to school!”

“But I haven’t-”

Mami replied, way too quickly and smoothly. “Oh, breakfast? Worry not. We are going to a breakfast place anyway.”

“Actually,” Nagisa piped up. “Mami brought-”

“Nagisa, would you like some cheesecake for dessert?”

“Wheeee!”

“How come Nagisa-chan gets cheesecake?”

“You can have fruit tart, or anything on the shop menu that you want. Yuma-chan.”

Sayaka recovered some senses and made a valiant attempt to salvage her dignity.

“Wait, Mami-san, we aren’t-”

Even as she began to speak, Mami had already steered the children out of the door and was one foot out herself.

If Sayaka wasn’t so flabbergasted by the rapid development of things, she might be impressed by this remarkable display of maneuverability.

“Don’t worry, Miki-san. I’ll take care of this.” Mami said without looking back. She sounded like she dared not look back. The redness had spread to her ears. “Please take _all_ the time you need. If you need an excuse to stay home, I can phone your parents and the school.”

“But I-”

The door slammed shut.

There was a temporary, stunned, and awkward silence in the room. Kyoko and Sayaka stared at the closed door in amusement and disbelief, respectively.

“Oh god.” Sayaka groaned.

Kyoko sat up from the floor. “Hey, don’t use the lord’s name in vain.” She rubbed her freshly grown elbow, which just received its first of many injuries to come.

Sayaka rolled her eyes at her. “Since when do you care about that?”

“Huh.” Kyoko grinned like an idiot. “Good point. Still don’t.”

Sayaka rolled her eyes the other way.

“Well. So that’s a thing.” Kyoko concluded quite elegantly. “Jeez, Mami sure overreact a lot.”

“Didn’t you just say not to use the lord’s name in vain?”

“That’s god’s son. And it’s sorta like a nickname.”

“Why do I feel like you just made that up?”

“Because I did.”

Sayaka shoved her lightly. Or tried to, anyway. That was when she noticed one of her hand was still intertwined with Kyoko’s. Her face heat up again.

Kyoko followed her gaze. She also looked slightly embarrassed, but she didn’t let go. “Well. Um…”

“Do you want some breakfast?” Sayaka offered, trying very hard to keep eye contact. “I mean, since Mami-san kind of, you know…”

“Ye-yeah. Sounds great.”

They hesitated a moment longer before withdrawing their hands. Sayaka got up and went into the kitchen. Kyoko followed to the door and stopped, leaning against the archway.

Sayaka could still feel her heart pounding in her ears as she took out an egg carton from the fridge. She had no idea why it was there or what she was doing anymore.

“So, um.” She stole a glance at Kyoko, who didn’t seem quite sure where to put her hand now she wasn’t wearing her trademark hoodie. “How are you feeling?”

“Good.” Kyoko rolled her shoulders. The joints popped. “Actually, feeling pretty great right now.” She said thoughtfully. “It’s like…”

“Like?”

“…like I kinda just woke up.” Kyoko rubbed the back of her head. “Not like literally, though I did. But more like… like I had been standing outside, you know?”

“What? Like an out-of-the-body experience?”

“Technically I have been having out-of-the-body experience all these years.”

Sayaka threw the empty carton at her. It missed, and she rephrased. “Like watching a TV?”

“Never owned one.” Kyoko stuck out her tongue, though it was difficult to say whether it was at her question or at the carton. “But yeah, kind of. You know what limbo is? Yeah, kind of like that.”

Sayaka tensed. “What about now? Are you feeling like yourself again?”

“More or less, I guess.” Kyoko chuckled, finally settling on folding her hands behind her head. She smiled. “It’s like things are finally clearing up. I mean, it’s still a mess. Everything’s kind of fuzzy and all over the place, but… I remember the past couple months.”

She turned to look at Sayaka fully. Her bow had fallen at some point. Maybe before she even found her way back to the apartment. With her hair down, she looked exactly like the praying girl Sayaka saw when she ventured into Kyoko’s mind.

“Thank you.” Kyoko said quietly, but the words carried more weight and sincerity than anything she had said since they met in this world (perhaps save for the time she first called Sayaka’s name). “Thank you for staying, Sayaka.”

Sayaka felt tears welling up in her eyes again.

“You dummy.” She turned away, hiding her tears, blush, and smile from Kyoko. “If you want to thank me, then don’t let me worry like that again.”

“I’ll do my best.” Kyoko said earnestly. This time it wasn’t a lie like the promise she made to Sayaka when she first came back to this city. She wanted to keep this promise, or at least try.

Sayaka opened the fridge again. There was another carton of eggs. She decided on something light and simple.

“Can you get the toast? It should be on the dining table.

“Copy that.”

When she returned a moment later, she walked up next to Sayaka and dumped the bag on the empty part of the counter.

“By the way, you dropped something.”

“Hmm?” Sayaka was looking for vegetable oil for the pan.

“Turn around.”

“Why?” She complained, but followed the instruction anyway.

And suddenly Kyoko was so close to her. Inches away. Her hands were reaching to the left side of Sayaka’s hair. Sayaka was too shocked to react.

“Don’t move.” Kyoko said. Her fingers lifted her sidebangs, and her gaze locked onto whatever task she had set out to accomplish.

Sayaka stayed perfectly still. She wanted to avert her eyes because of the way her heart was skipping, but she couldn’t help herself.

Kyoko was still smiling, with a sort of easy happiness similar to a child’s. But the way her eyes sparkled with affection suggested something deeper. Something more intimate.

“There we go.”

She finished what she was doing and traced her finger on Sayaka’s cheek. Their eyes met again. For a brief moment they just looked at each other.

Then Kyoko pulled away awkwardly, and they both averted their eyes at the same time.

Still trying and failing to calm her wild beating heart, Sayaka reached a hand to where Kyoko’s lingered. Her movement uncharacteristically timid.

She felt two familiar triangular shapes. Her hairpins. Both of which were now completely devoid of magic.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” Kyoko sighed. “For the record, you’re still a dumbass for gambling your life away.”

Sayaka was caught between wincing and pouting.

“But.” Kyoko picked up her hand, squeezing it gently. “I’m glad you saved me.”

It was the first time Sayaka heard Kyoko being thankful she survived and knew she meant it.

 

* * *

 

Mami couldn’t help herself. She kept checking her phone.

She was bouncing slightly on the balls of her feet, the kind of nervous energy normally seen in children. And in truth she felt like one, what with the wild fluttering of ideas.

Time crawled like a caterpillar under winter sun. It was still early enough to stroll leisurely to the school, but it would soon change if she kept lingering here.

That being said, perhaps there was still time to do something. To get answers. Now she had recovered from the scene she witnessed earlier, she itched for the silence around her to be filled, for the jitters in her heart to be calmed.

“You wish to speak with me.” A voice approached her from behind.

She drew a deep breath.

“Yes, indeed.”

Over the years, she had gotten used to the unceremonious manners in which the Incubator comes and goes. She never used to give it much thoughts until Nagisa entered her life.

“You know of my theory on Sakura-san’s condition?”

“Of course.”

“How accurate is it?”

Kyuubey flicked its tail from side to side. “It is quite extraordinary.” It admitted.

She dismissed the compliment, if it was one. “But is it correct?”

“Unable to compute. Insufficient data provided.”

Mami shot the alien an annoyed glare. She did not much feel like being courteous this morning. “But the conclusion? Was it right?”

The alien paused for a while, but she couldn’t tell whether it was appraising her speculation or her person.

“Aside from some minor details.” It said finally. “Yes. I suppose so.”

But the devil is in the details, as the saying goes.

Mami wanted to argue further, but thought better of it. The Incubator was unlikely to substantiate on the mystery concerning Kyoko’s condition. On the contrary, it might simply tell her what she wished to hear and omit what she needed to hear.

It would be prudent to simplify or specify her question.

“Well, what comes next?”

Kyuubey blinked once.

“As in, is Sakura-san cured now?”

If the answer was affirmative, there was less need to obsess over the principles behind Kyoko’s illness. It was a rare occurrence that would likely never happen to them again. Or she hoped so.

Kyuubey observed her for a moment, tail twitching slightly. “The strength of a Puella Magi’s magic is directly proportional to the condition of their soul, as well as their mental state.”

It was not the direct yes or no she hoped for, but she could surmise its relation to her question. It was a common trick for the Incubator to give a lengthy response without answering anything at all. She would have to redirect the topic of their conversation as required.

“Condition of one’s soul and mental state cannot be measured.”

“With human technology, no.” The alien agreed. “In fact, without the baseline data before Sakura Kyoko’s incident, any measurement would be moot at this point anyway.”

Mami tried to ignore the anger rising up her chest. “But could you tell? You must be able to. How else would you know whether a Puella Magi is in need of assistance or not?”

“We do have the ability to perceive the state of a soul better than humankind.”

“Then tell me! Is she okay?”

Kyuubey paused longer.

“Yes.”

Mami relaxed a little and nodded.

She was well aware of the pause and the potential complication that the Incubator failed to mention, but any sort of confirmation that the worst had already passed was good news by her standard. All that was left to do was to keep an eye on Kyoko during their nightly patrol.

Just as she began fretting again, Sayaka and Kyoko appeared in her view. Mami saw them walking together down the street from the city, shoulders touching every so often, and her worry was temporarily forgotten.

They saw her and waved. She waved back, remembering what she witnessed earlier.

“Fancy seeing you here.” Kyoko remarked dryly as she approached. “Thought you got something to do.”

Sayaka blushed and elbowed her side. Mami pointedly ignored their trading glances and cleared her throat. “I just wished for some companions on my way to school.” She said courtly.

Kyoko opened her mouth, perhaps to point out Mami’s school was farther than Sayaka’s. She shut her mouth when she received another elbow from Sayaka.

“We’re sorry to keep you waiting.” Sayaka replied smoothly, shooting her partner a glare.

Kyoko shrugged with something between a smirk and a scowl. She put her hands behind her head and began walking backwards, ahead of them. “So where’s the kiddos?”

“I have already walked them to school.” Mami said.

“Hm.” Kyoko looked to Sayaka. “Should I wait for after school then?”

Sayaka glanced to Mami, a shadow flitting past her expression. “I think it’d be better to consult Mami-san on whether to tell the girls.”

Kyoko shrugged again and began her tale. She told Mami what happened last night after she parted with Sayaka in front of the Miki residence (skimming over her encounter with Sayaka’s mother awkwardly). She told her about the lake, and the shadows underneath. Her memory became distorted after she got into the water, and her account of what injured her sounded more like a badly fabricated urban legend than an actual battle.

But that was not what Mami heard. Once Kyoko gave the description of the lake, a knot began tightening in her stomach. It was the same lake that had caught her attention.

So that wasn’t just her imagination. There was something despicable beneath that lake. Something she felt she should remember.

The vision this morning…

“You feeling alright?”

“Huh? Oh. Yes, I’m fine.” She forced a smile. “Just… it is a lot to take in.”

Kyoko glanced at her suspiciously. “We can talk more about that after school.” She looked up to the sky, feigning boredom. “I mean, if you want.”

Mami saw Sayaka rolling her eyes from the corner of her vision. She herself was still caught up in the memory of that morning.

“I’d like that.” She said quietly, looking at her shoes.

Kyoko noted her lack of confidence, mistaking it as concern for the upcoming battle. She cleared her throat. “…we’ll be fine as long as we don’t do something stupid like Sayaka.”

She meant to be reassuring, maybe, but she was honestly quite terrible at it. Mami reflected with a concealed smile. She was still quite amazed at how awkward Kyoko was when she could easily befriend children half their age.

Or perhaps it was the other way around.

“Excuse me?” Sayaka faked an offended gasp. “When had I ever done something stupid? You’re the one who always got your ass kicked.”

“Uh. I don’t.” Kyoko raised an eyebrow. “And you just did something extremely idiotic this morning.”

“That’s- that’s different.” Sayaka protested with a light blush. “And besides, I’m still here, aren’t I?”

“Yeah.” Kyoko snorted. “Only because _I_ gave you my magic.”

Sayaka and Mami both turned bright red at the same instance. The former blabbered incoherently for several seconds before she stormed off ahead in embarrassment, while the latter just held her burning cheek in one hand and gazed at Kyoko like she just grew a second head.

“What?” Kyoko met her gaze with genuine confusion. “What did I say?”

 _Only that you and Miki-san bonded in a very intimate way._ Mami almost blurted.

There were many levels to sharing magic. The most common usage was combo attack, in which two Puella Magi share a brief connection to coordinate their magic for either offensive or defensive purpose. That sort of connection generally required only a touch between the involved magic.

However, there were some more profound cases as well. Rumors of twins that could see through each other’s eyes. Stories of lovers who quite literally shared one soul…

_Oh dear. Maybe I should make some sekihan._

Kyoko rolled her eyes at her silence.

Just before they parted ways, Kyoko stopped Mami. Sayaka strode to a nearby bench to give them some privacy, waiting with her hands folded on her lap.

“Sakura-san?”

“Just got something to say to you is all.” Kyoko stuck her hands in her jacket pocket, which Sayaka brought back this morning. They found it just before they left the apartment. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep it short.”

Mami tilted her head.

“Something to say to me…?”

Kyoko nodded stiffly. She set her jaw and took several deep breaths.

"I want to apologize.”

It only added to Mami’s confusion.

“Whatever for?”

“Well, because…” Kyoko swallowed. "I wasn’t- I wasn’t a good guest.”

“I did not mind.”

“But I do.”

“Sakura-san…”

“Let me.” She held up a hand. “You’ve done so much for Yuma. A bit of gratitude is the least I can offer.”

“That is untrue.” Mami hesitated. “The Grief Cubes…”

“This _is_ your territory. They’re rightfully yours.”

They stood facing each other, for the first time since their departure years ago.

Seeing, instead of remembering. Kyoko had grown almost as tall as Mami was. Her hair longer and messier from the twelve-year-old who asked to be her pupil. Battles and weathers hardened her features. But Mami recognized that veracity in her eyes.

Some sparrows took flight from the roadside trees, and the courage came easily to her.

“I did not see you as a guest, Kyoko.” She shook her head, and found her could smile genuinely again. “I am glad you are back.”

Kyoko stood stunned for a moment before she turned away scratching her cheek.

They caught up with Sayaka and resumed the walk to school. More and more student joined them on the street, greeting each other good mornings, chatting about clubs, homework, TV shows, and other subjects. Some spared passing glances at the odd trio, but quickly ran to meet their own group of friends.

In front of Mitakihara Junior High, the three of them parted. Kyoko watched them disappearing into the crowds of students, until she was certain they both had gone out of her sight.

Now how should she spend the rest of her day? Kyoko wondered. It had been a long while since she felt like herself, and she was keen on making up for lost time. She should probably go to the store where she used to work and apologize to the owner for being away for so long. Maybe even ask them whether she could work there again. She had let Mami and Sayaka take care of her for too long. She must find a way to repay them, or at least help shoulder some expense.

Then she might go to the game center. God knows she missed the noise, the colorful light, and all the harmless fun. Focusing on hitting that perfect combo or shooting ugly aliens sounded like a great stress relief right now. It would probably also help take her mind off the frustration of the hazy memories in her head.

She looked up and squinted. The sky was bright and cloudless. Maybe she would go to the observation tower first. The scenery was promised to be magnificent. And you can never go wrong with some fresh air high above all the turmoils of the city.

“Sakura Kyoko.”

She looked down, scowling at the white furry alien.

“What do you want?”

“Just a simple question.” Kyuubey said unconvincingly. “A simple yes or no will suffice.”

Her scowl deepened. “It’s never easy when you’re involved.”

“I do not understand that assessment-”

“Forget it.” Her good mood was rapidly evaporating. “Just ask whatever you want.”

She’s definitely going to the observation tower first. Some alone time to clear her head and relax would be the best, before she had to interact with anyone else. Why did this little fucker always have to come ruin her day for her?

“Sakura Kyoko,” The Incubator said. “Do you remember why you became a Puella Magi?”

“…huh?”

Kyoko tried to think. She knew the answer. She must, right? How could she forget the reason she got herself into this mess? She must remember the miracle she asked for.

Yet, no matter how hard she concentrated, there was a fog in her head that seemed to shroud around that memory. Her head began aching. Sharp pangs that felt like the fangs of a snake sinking down a phantom limb.

Eventually she gave up. She felt humiliated for forgetting something so important, but she had time to remember. And besides, she could always ask Sayaka, or even Mami. They would know. They could help her remember again.

“It’s still a bit blurry.” She grimaced, unwilling to admit her weakness. “Why?”

“Ah.” But the Incubator only said. Unblinking. Mouth frozen in that permanent half-smile which always preluded to disasters. “I see.”

 

**[End of Part 2]**


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prepare your insulin shot. Seriously.

 

**[Part 3]**

 

Tanaka-san, the elderly store owner, called Kyoko to the backroom after they closed up the shop.

“Here.”

She put a bulging paper bag in Kyoko’s arms. It was light as feather to her inhuman strength, but weighed more than expected. She peered inside, blinking.

“Tanaka-san, this-”

“I heard you girls are celebrating.” The elderly woman chuckled kindly. “You’re officially moving to this city, aren’t you?”

“Yes. But-”

“Then take it and don’t argue with me. It’s only a small welcoming gift.”

Kyoko disagreed strongly. The bag was filled with seasonal fruits, vegetables, dried meat, and several bags of chips and candies. The portion was enough to feed a small family for a week at least. It was definitely not ‘small’.

But judging by the stern look on Tanaka-san’s face, she would just dismiss her protest.

“I-” She stammered. “I didn’t show up for work for two months straight-”

“Ah. Yes. But you were sick, weren’t you?”

Kyoko winced. With Mami and Sayaka’s help, she had regained memories of the past two months more clearly. She realized how much trouble she had caused them, as well as everyone she was directly or indirectly in contact with. Despite what others said, Kyoko believed fervently that she had an obligation to somehow amend that past.

“Yeah. But that’s no excuse for-”

“Kyoko.” Tanaka-san sighed. “When you get to my age, you learn that there are things more important than work.”

“I know.”

“I doubt so.” Tanaka-san picked up an apple from the basket by her feet. “See, our society taught us that you should always do everything you can to fulfill your duty.”

She turned the apple in her hand, observing it from every side like an artist before a sketch.

“It is an admirable aspect of our culture, to be sure. It is because of our dedication to our craft, institution, and the profession we choose, that our country has risen above the ashes.”

Kyoko stood listening intently. The topic of nation, society, and work seemed such a distant concept to her. Never since her Puella Magi life began had she heard or even considered such things. They seemed like matters from another universe. For a different girl.

“Like all things, there are benefits as well as drawbacks. In this ever-changing world, surrounded by revolutions after innovations, young people seem to forget.”

She put the apple on top of the paper bag, smiling wistfully.

“We have an obligation to ourselves as well as to others.”

Tanaka-san had graying shorthair tied neatly into a bun on the back of her skull, but Kyoko never considered her old. She had a kind, round face that drew children into her shop, where they would bounce merrily up and down the aisles searching for sweets. Tanaka-san always had a calming, motherly presence to them, but her age never showed.

“Health, time… they pass you by without you realizing. You know? We always think we work hard to provide for our family, to satisfy our friends, to not let down the expectations allotted to us.”

Right now, however, she saw the lines marked by years of experience. Years of hardship and heartbreak, but also of joy and revelry. It was life. It was a future Kyoko had forgotten.

“Don’t you think it’s silly that one should work so hard they miss their own daughter’s birthday?” Tanaka-san said. “Don’t you think it’s silly one sacrifice the bond they share with their partner? One day they wake up, and realize the person they share the same bed with has become a stranger.”

Kyoko bowed her head, unsure what to say. She didn’t quite understand it, for those were not part of her story. Not part of her regrets. But she felt she could empathize with at least some fraction of it. Though she could not pinpoint how.

“Ah, forget an old woman’s rambling.” Tanaka-san chuckled. “Just remember, Kyoko, above all else, you have a duty to your family.”

Something tugged in her chest, almost painfully so. Tears welled up in her eyes that blurred the room, and Tanaka-san’s face. But she felt alive, more alive than she had been, since… since…

“And home,” Tanaka-san took one of her hands, and placed it right above where it hurt most. “Is where the heart is.”

 

* * *

 

She left the small convenience store with the paper bag, a bright smile, and a light heart. 

Sayaka was waiting for her, sitting on her usual bench under the cherry tree. She was reading a book, the one she read last night just before bed.

Her companion seemed to have reached some sort of agreement with her parents. She was now spending the nights regularly at the apartment. Whereas she used to look suddenly worried or guilty, now she was completely relaxed.

Actually, Sayaka stayed over last night as well. Kyoko could still remember the warmth behind her back, and the sweet smell of raspberry that put her to a nightmareless sleep.

She couldn’t remember when they settled on the sleeping arrangement, ridiculous as it was. But by the time she realized it, they were sharing the same bed. And although Kyoko made it a point to ensure they lay down with their backs facing each other, in the morning she would always find Sayaka in her arms, nuzzling against her collarbone like a kitten.

Kyoko would sooner go into battle blindfolded than admit, but her heart always warmed and swelled in those moments.

Presently, however, they were both wide awake. And she was watching Sayaka from the store entrance with the same uncontrollable sense of fulfillment.

A breeze caught the girl’s hair, lifting the blue strands like ocean waves. Sayaka tucked the unruly locks back behind her ears, looking up to the flying leaves with a tenderness that had no bound.

The scene took Kyoko’s breath away.

After some time, Sayaka noticed her watching. She beamed at Kyoko, folding her book.

“All done for the day?”

Without thinking, she blurted out the first thing that crossed her mind. “You are wonderful.”

“…oh.” Sayaka lowered her head timidly. “Thanks?”

“I mean!” Kyoko stammered. “Tanaka-san gave us some stuff for the party.”

“Oh.” Sayaka said again, laughing. Her cheeks still tainted pink by shyness, and there was no doubt she was laughing partially because of Kyoko’s clumsiness. Because of what she said. “That’s great.”

Another gust of wind rushed past them, blowing from Sayaka to Kyoko. Kyoko subconsciously reached a hand out, with her palm up, as if to catch the flowing azure.

Sayaka came to her, light and graceful as a running stream in the spring. She placed her hand in Kyoko’s palm, like how fairy tales always depicted princesses do when they were asked to dance. Where their skins touched, a spark of electricity shot through their veins.

Kyoko wondered whether she deserved something so good.

“Let’s go.”

Sayaka’s fingers curled around hers. Her palm pressed against the back of Kyoko’s fingers, warm and yearning.

Kyoko nodded, though she had forgotten where they were supposed to go. She only knew she would never say no when Sayaka was looking at her like that. It was a conviction that rooted deep, a belief that she could go anywhere with Sayaka’s hands in hers. It was faith.

And Sayaka, mirroring the passion she was so liberally granted, drew them a little closer. Intertwined them a little deeper.

“Let’s go home.”

 

* * *

 

“Now don't start playing video games,” Mami called behind the children as they ran off into the bedroom. “Or heaven knows you two won't stop until you get to the next level.”

“Aw!” Nagisa complained. “But Kyoko’s here. We can always just get her speedrun through it.”

“What’s the fun if you just ask others to play it for you?” Mami sighed. “And come here. You have cheese sauce all over your face.”

“That's my snack!” The pale-haired girl exclaimed, but wobbled to her guardian anyway and sank into her laps.

“You just want Mami to spoil you.” Kyoko drawled from the sideline, shaking her head smugly. “Kids.”

She was picking her teeth with a pocky stick as she watched Mami expertly cuddling Nagisa while wiping her face with a handkerchief at the same time. The hand not holding the pocky supported her lazy weight.

“You’re no better.” Sayaka slapped her on the right knee. “Actually, you’re worse. You sneaked a bite of the cheesecake, didn’t you?”

“Did not!”

“You have crusts on your face.”

“Eh?” Kyoko sat up straight and wiped at the corner of her mouth. “No way. I only took a small b-”

Sayaka half glared half triumphed over her slip of tongue. “I knew it.” She slapped Kyoko’s knee again. “And you didn’t get - ugh. Get over here. How did you even get it on your nose? Honestly…”

Her fingernail scratched lightly.

Without thinking, Kyoko licked the crust off it as soon as she spotted the escaped crumbs.

Yuma snickered loudly. And Nagisa made an attempt to whistle. It came out like a deflating balloon.

Mami’s cheek flushed a deep red, only second to Sayaka’s. She pretended to not see the intimate gesture, but was doing a terrible job to disguise her excited glances.

“Off you go.” The blonde told her younger roommate. “But don’t take too long. There is still cakes and tea to be served.”

“Jeez, Mami. Let them have some fun.” Kyoko teased. “It’s Saturday for crying out loud. They don’t need to go to bed early or anything.”

Mami looked both thrilled and slightly appalled. “They are still children, Sakura-san. They need decent amount of sleep.”

“Eh, they can nap in class.”

“Why am I not surprised you said that?” Sayaka sighed. “Don’t tantalize them.”

“What? It’s not like listening in class will guarantee good grades and stuff.” Kyoko stuck out a tongue. “Otherwise you’d be smarter.”

“Why you-”

“Ahem!” Mami interrupted their bickerings with an awkward cough. “Now, now. No fighting. Sakura-san, although I agree that grades are not everything to a successful school life, you still should not encourage the kids to neglect their education.”

Kyoko just shrugged nonchalantly. She was never fond of Mami’s strictness when it came to work ethic, but she was in too good a mood to make a fuss over it.

Mami sighed and turned to Sayaka. “Miki-san, I think the duty to properly raise Yuma-chan falls on you.”

Sayaka nodded earnestly. “That’s what I-” Then she realized what Mami was implying and blushed profusely again. “-uhhhh. I mean. I’ll do my best to make sure Yuma-chan doesn’t grow up like a delinquent.”

“Whatever.” Kyoko made a face. “So where’s the cake, Mami?”

“Are you hungry again?” Sayaka gawked at her incredulously. “You just ate three plates.”

“Bite me” was Kyoko’s retort.

“Oh dear.” Mami held a hand to her cheek. “That will be inappropriate. Well, at least not in public…”

“Mami-san!”

“It was a joke.” Mami giggled in a way that suggested it was only a half-truth. “But to answer your question, Sakura-san, the cake is still in the fridge. It needs a little more time to cool.”

“What? I thought you made it yesterday!”

“That was the lasagna. I was a little preoccupied yesterday and had to delay the cake until this morning. And the recipe I used happens to require more care and time.” Mami smiled harmlessly. “However, I do guarantee the reward will be worth it.”

“Eh. I believe if you want something you should just take it.”

“Patience is a virtue.”

“Not unless I’m hunting.”

“Ah, but you always had a tendency to be a little reckless…” Mami’s smile dimmed. “You should allow others to help more often. We need the peace of mind.”

The atmosphere tensed. No one was inclined to recount Kyoko’s most recent brush with death.

Kyoko broke the silence. “We have to talk about it some time.” She said grimly.

“…yeah.” Sayaka agreed without any enthusiasm.

“And we will, eventually.” Mami forced a smile. “But not here, and not now. Today we party. We celebrate life.”

“By not talking about death?”

“By not giving into the fear of it.”

Kyoko snorted. “How philosophical.” But her voice was soft around the edges.

Just then, Nagisa ran into the living room, followed by Yuma. She all but crashed into Mami and began whispering something.

Sayaka scooted a little closer to Kyoko.

“I know you want to get rid of the Wraths as soon as possible.” She placed a hand on Kyoko’s forearm. “And I agree they’re a problem. But…”

“That’s surprising coming from you. You strike me as the hero of justice type.”

Sayaka smiled thinly. “I am just a normal human girl, as are you.” Her voice dripped with self-mockery. It irked Kyoko. “Puella Magis aren’t saints. If we can’t stop even for a moment to spend time with those important to us, then… then what’s the point of fighting?”

Kyoko was going to interject on the part about normalcy and human, but chose not to in the end. And when Sayaka mentioned taking the time to be with loved ones, Kyoko remembered Tanaka-san’s words. There really was no argument against that part no matter how one looked at it. Though Kyoko still felt somewhat uncomfortable about the notion.

She observed Sayaka, sitting so close to her she could feel the warmth of her body and the aroma of clean ocean breeze.

What she had was good. More than good. More than great, remarkable, fantastic, satisfying. But what was the price she must pay? And how long would she get to keep it?

A canvas bag landed in her lap, then the small girl she would give everything to protect. Both were heavier than she anticipated.

“That wasn’t much.” She observed.

Yuma shrugged. “Not much to pack.” She grabbed the strap of the bag and held it up, examining its contents. “Oh, but just so you know. Mami-neechan might tell you to carry another three cases.”

“Your stuff?”

“Borrowed.”

“You don’t want them?”

“I want to see our new home.” She tugged a strand of loose thread from her old T-shirt. “Oh, but before that, cake.”

Kyoko reached out to brush Yuma’s hands away from her damaged cloth and snapped the thread, to prevent her from unraveling the entire T-shirt.

“Tell that to Mami.” She said. “She might actually listen to you.”

Nagisa was way ahead of them. Presently, she was doing her best puppy face to convince her guardian you can will a cake into finishing.

Kyoko watched them from afar. She wondered how much time Mami had. Vaguely she recalled a promise she made long ago to keep her safe. Who did she make that promise to? A young girl full of hope. She had forgotten her face.

Eventually Mami relented, like they all knew she was bond to. As she got up to retrieve the dessert from the fridge, Kyoko considered offering her help, but the thought was as fleeting as a hawk’s shadow soaring above misty mountains. They built something admirable here. Nothing especially magnificent. On the contrary, it was quite the ordinary life all Puella Magi eventually yearned for.

Maybe it was the haven she had wanted. Maybe this was the life she was also trying to build. But if that was the case, had she any right to stay within its walls when she never laid down a brick?

A weight fell on her shoulder so naturally it felt as if it had always been there. Then came Sayaka’s voice.

“What are you thinking?”

“Yuma grew taller.” She paused, surprised by her own ready excuse. “And heavier too.”

“How insensitive of you to talk about a girl’s weight.” Sayaka feigned shock and horror. The playfulness dimmed after a moment as her expression shifted. “Am I heavy?”

“Should I tell the truth?”

Before Sayaka could reply, the trio emerged with the cake, fresh beverages, and more desserts Mami kept as a surprise.

Kyoko cut into the cake enthusiastically, but paused shortly before stuffing the forkful of sweet into her mouth. She was vaguely aware of an expectation that defied logic and prompted her to examine the cake with unwarranted scrutiny. Something about a room without color and burnt ash.

It dissolved with the smooth thickness of cheese filling that melt on her tongue. She was surprised at her own astonishment.  It tasted like sugar and nostalgia. Like the candy you loved as a kid but couldn’t find anymore.

She chose not to brood on it too much, working with others to devour everything on the table.

After the dishes were done and the luggages collected, they stood by the entrance. Kyoko held Yuma’s shoulders with Sayaka by their side. Mami and Nagisa stood facing them, backs to the living room.

Mami came up and wrapped her arms around the small girl. “It will be a bit more lonely without you.” She sniffed.

“Mami-neechan’s so dramatic.” Yuma laughed, patting her back. “You’ve got Nagisa-chan here.”

Nagisa squeezed in as well. “It’s true.”

Mami chuckled as she released the children from her embrace. Kyoko stiffened her back in anticipation. When the blonde met her eyes, she bowed deeply.

“Thank you for taking care of Yuma.” She said with all the sincerity and wondered if it was enough.

Yuma followed suit. As did Sayaka, for some reason.

Mami straightened up and returned the gesture.

“You are welcome here at any time.” She said. “This is your home too.”

Like one big, happy family.

 

* * *

 

The setting sun dyed the water a warm gold, stretching their shadows along the riverbank. Yuma was between Kyoko and Sayaka, holding them by one hand each.

“Again!” She laughed when her feet touched the ground.

Timing her skipping steps, Kyoko flexed at the same time Yuma leapt up. She felt the momentum of the child pulling forward, but easily reeled her back, making her swinging back and forth, squealing with delight.

Then Yuma’s feet touched down again, and she bounced, giggling. Her backpack, which was fashioned to a cartoonish tomcat, bobbed lightly every step.

And perhaps on the next step she would jump so high she leaves the constraint of gravity. Or grow a pair of wings. Or be carried up by the wind. Such belief of endless possibility was childish, fleeting, and contagious. Kyoko found herself smiling as she watched Yuma bounce and hop.

If the weight was all she had to give in exchange of such innocence, she would gladly bear it until the end of time.

Judging by the similarly tender expression, Sayak was in agreement with such sentiment. However, with each time they lifted the child up suspended in midair, Kyoko noticed her companion beginning to visibly strain with the effort.

“Hey.” She called to Yuma, and put her hands under the child’s armpits. Yuma squirmed a little in her grasp, charged with excitement. “Come here.”

She effortlessly hoisted the girl up to her shoulders, grabbing onto her knees to keep her from toppling over.

“How’s this?”

Yuma recovered in seconds, giggling. “It’s so high!”

“Yeah?” She smirked. “Now hold out your arms… you got your balance? Good. Alright. Sit tight.”

Sayaka seemed to realize what she was up to. “Kyoko-” She began disapprovingly.

But Kyoko shot forward. Yuma let out a squeak at first, but it soon dissolved into excited laughters. Kyoko laughed with her, taking a small leap every now and then. She ran far ahead, did a few turns that tilted Yuma precariously on her shoulder, before finally circling back.

Sayaka was waiting for them with her hands on her hip, looking unimpressed.

“I know I should have expected that…” She complained. “But you could have grabbed her arms at least.”

Kyoko shrugged guiltily as she peered up at Yuma.

“It’s fun!” The child grinned down happily. “Can we do that again?”

Sayaka squinted at Kyoko, as if daring her to agree.

Kyoko decided she did not want to risk her wrath.

“Maybe next time.” She told Yuma. “But tell you what. I’ll give you shoulder ride until we get to the apartment. How’s that?”

“Cool!” Yuma wrapped her small arms around Kyoko’s head, giggling again. “Are you two going to hold hands?”

 

* * *

 

Kyoko sat on the couch with Yuma in her lap, holding one of Yuma’s textbooks before them.

But neither was really paying attention to it. They were both focused on the movie playing on the TV. The sound was muted, but they did not really need it to understand what was happening. It was an action movie involving gigantic sentient marshmallow monsters.

“Why didn’t they just use a flamethrower?” Yuma whispered to Kyoko. “That’d be super effective.”

“How should I know?” Kyoko whispered back. “If it’s up to me, things would have gone  _ way _ different..”

“You’ll eat them.”

“Of course. They’re  _ marshmallows _ .”

“What marshmallows?”

Sayaka was peeking out from the kitchen at them suspiciously. She could not see the screen which was facing away from her, but she definitely knew they were not studying like they promised they would.

“You better not be sneaking snacks again.” She brandished her spatula like a sword at Kyoko. “Or you aren’t eating dinner tonight.”

They made a short stop at a grocery store on the way back to the apartment. Sayaka insisted the cookies and chips Kyoko received from Tanaka-san, the storeowner, did not constitute to a proper meal (which would have offended Kyoko if not for Sayaka’s promise to whip up a more healthy diet, which translated to something more fulfilling).

Shortly after they arrived at the apartment, Sayaka put on her apron (cherry blossom patterned) and went into the kitchen, leaving Yuma and Kyoko in the living room.

And  _ god _ , whatever Sayaka was making, it smelled  _ good _ .

But that didn't mean Kyoko was going to accept the accusation thrown at her. It didn't matter she was thinking about opening the box of pocky hidden in her jacket pocket.

“I wasn't!”

Sayaka looked at her skeptically. Kyoko didn’t bat an eyelash. She hadn't done anything yet.

“Seriously!”

Yuma looked between them as they bickered. Her emerald eyes blinked with wonder, switching target with each sentence exchanged. Then suddenly she giggled.

Kyoko paused the argument to look at the child.

“And what are you laughing at?”

“Nothing.” Yuma beamed up at her innocently. “Just… this must be what it feels like.”

“What must feel like what?”

“A normal family.” Yuma giggled. “With papa and mama being all lovey-dovey.”

Kyoko nearly choked on that.

“Wha-” She stammered. From the corner of her vision, Sayaka seemed to have stiffened. She wasn’t sure, because she was avoiding looking that direction. “Yuma, don’t be ridiculous!”

“I wasn’t.” Yuma protested with large bright eyes. “That’s how married couple fight.”

“Where did you even get that idea?!”

“Well, all the TV shows and movies said so.”

Kyoko was starting to have second thoughts on whether she should have thanked Mami for taking care of Yuma at all.

“It’s not-” Her lips felt far too dry. As was her parched throat. “You can’t say something like that.”

“Why not?”

“Because-” She tried desperately to find the right word. Heaven knows she was not qualified to give this speech. “Because that kind of things is reserved for someone very special. Alright?”

“But Kyoko is special to Sayaka. And Sayaka is special to Kyoko.”

Were they?

Subconsciously, Kyoko looked to Sayaka. She didn’t even know why she did that. Maybe she just wanted to make sure Sayaka wasn’t too upset about what Yuma said. She may not know much about relationship or feelings, but she understood the delicacy with which it should be handled.

And if she knew anything about Sayaka, it was that she was a romantic at heart. She couldn’t quite put her fingers on what made her thought so, but she knew it to be true.

When she looked, Sayaka had already disappeared into the kitchen again.

“See?” She hissed at Yuma. “You made her mad.”

But Yuma rolled her eyes and clicked her tongue, like she was in on some big secret Kyoko was not privy to. “Kyoko.” She mimicked the way grown-ups sometimes did, with a meaningful sigh. “You really don’t get it.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh ho. I can’t tell you.”

“Why you little-”

“Look.” Yuma got out from her lap and kneeled on the couch, with all the seriousness a ten-year-old could muster. “If you’re so worried it upset Sayaka-neechan, just go talk to her.”

She’s got a point. Kyoko rubbed her temple and sighed.

“Okay. Fine. Just…” She looked pointedly at Yuma. “Stay here.”

Yuma smiled way too innocently.

Kyoko approached the kitchen like one would to a dragon’s nest, with much apprehension and zero idea of what to do once she entered the unknown domain. She lingered by the doorway for a moment, peering first at her target then back to Yuma. The child was waving her arms in an encouraging gesture for her to keep going.

She made a face at the girl before focusing back on her objective.

Sayaka had her back to her. Kyoko shuffled slowly and heavily into the space, making all sorts of noise to alert Sayaka of her presence.

However, Sayaka did not turn.

She cleared her throat awkwardly.

“Hey, Sayaka.” She wanted to act and speak more casually, but her pitch was higher than usual. One of her arm found its way to the back of her neck. As she gathered her thoughts, she began gripping nervously. “So, um, Yuma didn’t mean anything by it.”

She was just winging it at this point. There was no way to tell whether her words had any desired effect with Sayaka’s back to her. She was flipping their dinner in the pan.

“Don’t think too much about it, alright?” She was running out of things to say rapidly. “She’s just a kid. Don’t take it too seriously.”

Still, Sayaka did not look at her. She seemed to be purposefully ignoring her.

Half irritated, half worried, Kyoko reached out a hand to grab her shoulder. “Hey,” she raised her voice. “Are you listening to-”

As Sayaka was whirled around, a pair of chopsticks shot up straight to Kyoko. And a piece of korokke, fresh from the pan, was stuffed into her mouth.

As she struggled with the boiling hot food, Sayaka turned back to the stove once again like nothing had happened.

But Kyoko could have sworn she heard her whisper, blushing and grumbling.

“What if I  _ want _ to take it seriously…”

 

* * *

 

Yuma was pretending she wasn’t eavesdropping when Kyoko stumbled out from the kitchen.

She tilted her head slightly. It couldn’t have been more than a minute. What exactly did they talk about? And more importantly-

“Why are you so red?”

“Ask my DNA.”

“No I mean your face is all red.”

“You are seeing things.” Kyoko picked up the book they were supposed to read and lifted her onto her lap again. She was definitely warm. “Now read your book.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 4 or 5 more chapters to go.


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apology in advance for poor quality of this chapter.  
> Also, update for next week might be delayed due to schedule.

They enjoyed one day of peace and quiet before Kyuubey showed up uninvited to break the illusion. If the alien was capable of emotion, they might have mistaken his urgency as concerns towards the welfare of Mitakihara.

Still, the fact that the creature bothered to show up at all despite knowing full well its presence was unwelcomed was enough indication of the danger. That was, more or less, how they came to stand by the lake where Kyoko narrowly escaped death less than two weeks prior.

It was the first Sunday of October, deep into autumn. The first hint of winter dominated over the quiet evening whence the two Puella Magis assembled by the shore.

There was no one else in the park across, which made their preparation significantly easier. However, whereas Kyoko tapped her spear impatiently on the grass, Mami appeared forlorn. An unusual unease clouded over her expression as they waited. She kept glancing towards the calm surface of the lake as if expecting a monster would suddenly break out.

“He’s late.” Kyoko commented with a scowl. “You’d think he’d be on time for something this important.”

“The Incubator never does anything without a cause.”

Kyoko noted her distraction. “Are you okay?” She frowned. “You look worried. Like more than usual.”

“You have been away for quite some time.” Mami replied lightly, before she noticed how her statement could be taken as accusation. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to…”

“It’s fine.”

“But-”

“I said it’s fine.”

Mami quieted and brooded some more while Kyoko shifted on her feet awkwardly. The silence between them seemed to hush all other voices. Until there came a third. The unannounced intruder that instigated their predicament.

“And here we are at the source.”

“You’re late.” Kyoko snarled at the alien.

Mami both frowned and perked up at the same time. “The lake?”

The Incubator did not see any merit in responding to Kyoko’s accusing comment. “Not exactly. The body of water had no special properties as far as we could discern. However, we did confirm an unusually high concentration of miasma here.”

“From the Wrath that attacked Sakura-san?”

“Was that even a Wrath?” Kyoko folded her arms over her chest, suspicious. “I might not remember much about the fight, but that thing sure as hell didn’t look like one.”

“I am quite confident it is a specie of Wrath.” The Incubator replied. “I agree the description is quite unusual, however, it really is no surprise considering how they seem to have evolved in Mitakihara.”

“Evolve?”

“In short, they merely assume a different form.”

“I have heard of them.” Mami injected thoughtfully. “Creatures that become what they feast on. But I always thought it was just another urban legend passed down by generations of Puella Magi.”

“I assure you, they are quite real.” The alien said. “I do agree it is strange they should appear here. It is, however, not an impossibility.”

“I don't like this.” Kyoko complained. “This whole damn thing feels off.”

Truth to be told, Mami felt the same. But… “It is our duty.” She insisted. The words tasted like half-rotten vegetable on her tongue. “If not us, who else?”

“I get it. I get it.” Kyoko waved a hand as if to swat away flies. “But when shit hits the fan, I reserve the right to say ‘I told you so.’”

“We will see if we cross that bridge.”

“ _ When _ we cross that bridge.”

“We can debate this all night, but I’d rather we finish this and go home. We have people waiting for us.”

Kyoko started, caught off guard by the sudden statement. “I don’t-” She cut herself off and gradually relaxed. Her feature overcame by tenderness. “…yeah.” She said at last. “Yeah. We do.”

Out of affectionate pride, Mami reached out and lightly squeezed her elbow.

“Let us do this, then.”

And they dove into the lake.

 

* * *

 

“Are they gone?”

Nagisa peeked over the bush before she stood fully. “Yeah. They just went in.”

Sayaka raised to her feet as well. She had no idea how they managed to pull this off. Puella Magis were notorious for their keen senses that would put the most able hound in the world to shame. Even though she and Nagisa were intimately familiar with the full extent of their respective partner’s ability, by all rights, they should have been discovered. Sayaka even prepared contingencies.

Now that they were in the clear, varying emotions competed for her attention. On one hand she was still upset with Mami and Kyoko for their refusal of their company. On the other hand she feared for them. She also worried the Incubator had led them into yet another trap.

Yuma was the last to came through the bush. She wiggled her tiny body free from the grasps of the low branches as she stumbled forth. Her gaze shifted nervously around. She was frightened by whatever lurked beneath that deceivingly calm surface, but with iron will she forced her shaking feet forward.

Sayaka glanced over.

“Are you alright?”

Yuma opened her mouth to reply, then closed it mechanically. She nodded instead.

Sayaka wondered whether it had been a mistake to bring the child along. Well, it wasn’t like she could just leave her alone again, exactly.

“It’ll be alright.” She promised, helplessly. “They’ll be back soon, and then you’ll see. Everything’s gonna be alright.”

Sayaka was vaguely aware of the look Nagisa passed her before her fellow former-Puella-Magi turned and sat on the grassy bank. She led Yuma by her hand and followed suit.

The child had grown on her rapidly. Initially, it was a sort of transitive affection generated through a mutual connection. However, ever since the girl moved in, Sayaka began seeing life in a new light she had never considered before. A sense of normalcy. A happiness that should have been granted commonly.

Except they were anything but normal, or common. Puella Magis were unnatural tragedies orchestrated by the alien race, and the girls who obtained magic aged rapidly in their youthful bodies, until the day they were swallowed by the darkness.

But Yuma wasn’t a magical girl yet, and she would never become one in this new world if they had any say in the matter.

“So what do we do now?” Yuma asked, holding the hand the led her tightly. Concern and curiosity were both evident in her expression, although the proportion was reversed to what Sayaka felt personally.

Sayaka put her next to Nagisa, who sat hugging her knees to her chest and staring intently out to the water.

“Well. We wait.”

She picked a comfortable patch of grass for seat. One of legs stretched fully, the other bent to make a narrow triangle with the ground. Her arms supported her weight behind. She could feel all the microorganisms tickling her palms and fingertips.

Stars reflected on the calm surface of the lake, like a miniature night sky. If she held it in her palms, maybe she could also catch the moon.

She didn’t know how long they would wait. She didn’t know either whether what would emerge from the depth. The Wraths or their loved ones. Yuma didn’t know this, but Nagisa and herself had always debated on what made more sense for them to do if Mami or Kyoko should perish again.

Nagisa had always insisted they must carry on no matter what. This new life was a second chance (it was a lot more than that, really, but nobody was keeping count). They had the obligation to live it fully and purposefully.

Sayaka didn’t disagree with that. It would be a waste to just throw in the towel. But to her, she  _ had _ already lived a full life. Countless times. Maybe they didn’t always end favorably, but now that she knew there was a possibility there could be more to it… she wasn’t so sure whether she could wait. Without the one person she wanted to spend it with the most.

Perhaps that was part of the reason Nagisa looked so forlorn.

“Do you think the Goddess still sees us?” The white-haired girl asked suddenly, without taking her eyes off the lake even for an instant.

Sayaka looked over. Nagisa stubbornly refused to meet her gaze.

She had nearly forgotten. Nagisa was orphaned. There was no one else left in this world for her aside from Mami. Perhaps that was why she insisted so much on living. Just like how Mami saw a little bit of herself in Nagisa, Nagisa also resonated with the loneliness and weakness that plagued Mami.

“I don’t know.” She said after a moment. “Part of me want to believe she still does. Part of me want to know she never has to suffer for others anymore.”

Being part of the Law of the Cycle was not the same as going to heaven, if heaven did exist. They simply existed on a different dimension. In the timeless duration Nagisa had been one with the law that governed the fate of all Puella Magis, she had never once seen her deceased parents.

Now that the Law of the Cycle was broken, she wondered whether they would all come to the same fate. Would there be a paradise like the sacred text promised? Or would there simply be nothing?

In a way, maybe even that was preferable. At least if death was void, it would also mean no more pain to bear.

Yuma looked between them.

“Goddess?”

“Ah.” Sayaka patted her head. “It’s a long story. I’ll tell it to you some other time.”

Yuma nodded, though she still looked curiously between them.

Nagisa strained for a smile.

“Yuma-chan, do you believe in god?”

“I don’t know. I never thought about it.” Yuma paused, looking to Sayaka as if searching for approval. “But I know the church Kyoko and me lived in was important to her.”

If Mami was here, she would likely correct Yuma’s grammar and avoid the question entirely. Sayaka, on the other hand, was too distracted by memories of the various times she came to learn of Kyoko’s past.

“I think.” She began quietly. “Faith is a lantern.”

“Like a beacon?”

“Not just that. It’s… fire. Sometimes they shine over your path. Or when the night is so thick just to let you know you are not alone. But when it’s overturned or fed too much fuel, it can hurt. It can destroy.”

Yuma pondered for a moment.

“You know, the first year I moved in with Kyoko.” She began softly. “One of the other girls chased some Wraths to the church. There was a fire.”

“What happened?”

“Not much. Kyoko put it out. She’s mad at the girl though.”

“I’d imagine.”

“But later I saw her with a red can and a box of matches, in front of the church. She looked really sad.”

“The place is important to her.” Sayaka murmured, unable to meet the child’s eyes. “She wants to rebuild it.”

“Well.” Yuma looked to her, smiling. “With your help. I’m sure she can.”

She remembered the church inside Kyoko’s soul. It was such a grandiose and noble sight, not unlike the haven Madoka created for all the lost Puella Magi back in the days. Could she really help? Was it really what Kyoko was looking for?

Millions of stars reflected on the quiet lake. Millions possibilities of how their future could unfold. Distant, twinkling, but definite and warm.

 

* * *

 

Kyoko had never seen such a sight before. Monsters tangled together in the depth of the water, lashing out at each other with angry fireballs and golden ribbons.

“Are they…” Mami whispered beside her, in similar disbelief. “Are they fighting?”

“I-I think so.” She swallowed.

The scene before them was unnerving. They had never known Wraths to possess the ability to fight amongst themselves. What even constituted their conflict? They were soulless, hollow beings, weren’t they?

“Had they been fighting all this time?” Mami mumbled. “How could this not alert anyone? I know normal people can’t see Wraths, but surely such disturbance…”

Kyoko honestly doubted this had been happening the last time she descended down the depth. That memory was still fuzzy at best, but she recalled only seeing one monster.

“Come on.” She said nervously. “If we time this right, we can take out both in the same strike.”

Mami nodded, though Kyoko could tell she was not in the least bit convinced. Nevertheless, she summoned one large musket and aimed at the wrestling monsters. Kyoko prepared her spear as well.

“Tiro-”

Just then, the monsters separated. They heard a horse whinny as the larger of the two whipped around and dashed straight for the surface. The smaller one shrieked, sending a multitude of threads after its retreating opponent.

Kyoko swung her spear to the side and sent a burst of energy through its tip, propelling herself towards Mami and knocking them both out from the path of the larger monster and the trajectory of the glowing threads.

They saw first the candle monster, then the checkered horse rising past. The golden lines stretched and stretched, but were kicked away by the hooves or cut by a spear.

There was something eerily familiar about it that Kyoko couldn’t quite put her fingers on.

Before she could ponder on it, she was forced to move once again. The smaller monster beneath them was struggling to swim up. Still shrieking, it sent more and more threads out. One of them shot past Kyoko’s right cheek. She hissed.

“Sakura-san?!”

“I’m alright.” She frowned as she ignored the unpleasant sting. A scratch as small as this could be healed in few seconds, but it would be wise to preserve some magic for the battle ahead. “Be careful. Those things are sharp.”

Mami nodded. The musket she summoned before had dissipated when her concentration was diverted. She summoned another and pointed it at the smaller Wrath.

But before she could pull the trigger, more threads shot out.

They instinctively tried to dodge. However, none of the threads were aimed directly at them. By the time they realized, the space around them had been enclosed by strips of gold. And in an instant, it seemed they were transported to somewhere else entirely.

There was no more water. The space was clean and bright. A large table materialized in the center, with cups and plates of cakes sitting on it. The smaller monster - a creature shaped like a doll - floated behind the table, chortling madly.

“What the hell?” Kyoko muttered. “Hey, Mami, have you ever seen-”

She stopped abruptly when she saw the horror written all over Mami’s expression. The blonde dropped her musket, gaze fixated on the floating doll.

Kyoko turned, and saw an army of humanoid figures marching out from behind the doll. They wore maid uniforms and had either pink or raven hairs. She wasn’t sure why, but the sight of those distorted girls nauseated her.

And at the sight of them, Mami had turned paler than sheet. She collapsed to her knees, shaking uncontrollably.

“Oh no.” She whimpered. “Oh God, no.”

 

* * *

 

Without warning, the monster broke through the water.

Yuma, who was dozing off in Sayaka’s laps, jolted awake by the sudden motion and noise. She was stunned for a full second before her mind comprehended the giant creature in front.

Sayaka and Nagisa must have either been alerted by her jolt or had seen the disturbance themselves. In a moment, Sayaka had stood up with Yuma in her arms and holding an arm before Nagisa.

It was a vain attempt. If the monster meant to do harm to them, they would all be crushed in an instant.

Perhaps it was because of this that Yuma did not react further, only gasping and staring with astonishment at the gigantic candle monster sitting on a horse, standing above the water.

She had never seen something as extraordinary before.

The candle monster gazed at them (or so Yuma figured. It's hard to tell because it had no eyes) for a while. Its kimono was dripping, but only for a moment. The nearly distinguished flame above its head flickered wildly.

The monster howled. The flame burst outward with grilling heat. Sayaka brought them all to the ground when the feverish waves hit, trying her best to cover them under her body.

But the flame did not injure any of them, and the monster did not raise its spear to chop them to pieces.

Instead, it looked away. The flame dwindled again to a mere spark.

And then the horse reared. When its hooves touched the surface of the lake they created enormous ripples that shattered the stars and the moons.

The candle monster looked back one last time, and drove the horse off into the quiet night.

It all happened too quickly for Yuma to fully process. She was still transfixed by the event long after the candle monster had disappeared off the horizon. It was not until Sayaka sat up, tentatively, still holding her, that she came back to her senses.

“Yuma!” Sayaka held her a little tighter, wiping her face. She didn't realize she was crying. “Yuma, what was it?”

“It's…” She swallowed hard. “Gone.”

“What’s gone?”

She shook her head, unable to find the correct words.

Something about the way the candle monster rode off, aimless, anguished her. She snuggled closer into the warm embrace and cried harder, muttering to herself over and over again, not entirely sure what she meant or why it had upset her so.

“Fire. The fire.”

 

* * *

 

It was a total disaster.

More humanoids emerged from the back of this strange space. Kyoko was having a hard time fighting them off. Mami was not helping. Her aims had been all over the place and she was frantic. The shots all focused on the tiny doll dancing in the middle of the room, but none actually found its target.

Meanwhile, the humanoids gathered closer and closer. Mami ignored them all.

Kyoko pushed off a particularly feisty red humanoid off herself and looked over. More than a dozen of those creatures had closed in on Mami, forming a semi-circle as they waltzed merrily with their trays of unsavory-looking cookies and teas.

She dashed over, practically tackling Mami in her midsection. At the same moment one of the black servants fired a shot. It ripped through the air as they both hit the ground rolling.

“Mami!” Kyoko screamed as she tried to hold down her struggling partner in her grips. “Calm the fuck down!”

Mami looked back to her, eyes wide and fearful. “I-”

The humanoids fired several shots at them.

“Damnit!” Kyoko deflected them with a spear. She got just enough time to grab Mami’s elbow and pull her to her feet. “We need to regroup.”

“But-”

“Shut up unless you want both of us killed. We need a better plan.”

Whatever Mami might say about such attitude was promptly forgotten when another shower of bullets rained down upon them. The two Puella Magis worked their way back slowly.

The space grew with every passing second. Probably not a good sign, but under this particular circumstance it worked in their favor. Kyoko grabbed Mami as she sent several spears to their pursuers, not really damaging them physically but setting off a surge of splinters and dusts to hinder their visibility. They ducked behind a mountain of distorted muffins.

Kyoko set Mami down, heavily. The blonde let out a small squeak of surprise, first because of the sudden rude treatment, then because Kyoko was suddenly in her face.

“Okay, what the hell?” She threw her hands up. “What the fuck’s going on with you today?”

Mami looked away shaking. Kyoko had to lean closer to hear what she was whispering. “I’m sorry.” She looked like she was about to cry. “Oh my god. I’m so sorry.”

That threw Kyoko off. She had never seen Mami like this. Vulnerable.

Sure, she knew how lonely Mami had always been, even back when she was still a pupil of hers, but she was used to the pretense of confidence and strength. She was used to be there to douse Mami’s over-enthusiasm with a mild reality check.

“Just… get your head into the game.” She mumbled.

“No.” Mami shook her head, her lips were trembling so vigorously it was difficult to make out the words. “It’s my fault.”

“What the hell are you talking about? Snap out of it already! We’ve got Wraths to kill.”

“You don’t understand.” Mami looked at her, helpless. She curled her lips, but there was no humor. It was broken and hollow. “This… this is my despair. I can’t stop it.”

Part of Kyoko wanted to just smack her in the head because she was convinced Mami had completely lost it.

However, another part of her - the part that remained obscure and made absolutely no sense - somehow knew what Mami meant without really understanding the what, why, or how.

She put her left hand to her temple, as if steadying her thoughts. This was insane. This was absolutely ridiculous. They were hundreds of feet below the surface, trapped in some kind of mysterious space, with a growing army of deadly monsters actively searching for them. Really, she should just knock Mami out and deal with this alone. At least until they could find a way out.

Instead she dropped her spear, put both hands on Mami’s shoulders, and stared her right in the eyes.

“Then don’t.” She said. “Don’t stop it. But help me defeat it.”

And Mami looked back to her with such bewilderment in her amber eyes it was like she just found something she thought she had lost a long time ago. She raised her shaky arms and latched onto the hands that seemed to anchor her.

“I should have been there for you.” She wept. “All those times I should have dragged you back from your path, but I didn’t.”

Kyoko struggled against the urge to let go. She tried because she knew if she did, they would never get out of here in one piece. She just didn’t know whether she worried about herself or Mami more.

“And it’s because I was afraid you would hate me.” Mami choked out her confession. “I let you suffer alone because I was too much of a coward.”

Kyoko took a deep breath. Somehow she knew this was coming.

“Look.” She sighed. “I have no idea what you’re yammering about. But I can tell you this - everything I did, I did for myself. Nobody could have stopped me. Not even you. So stop overthinking.”

She squeezed Mami’s shoulders, hard enough to crush the bones if Mami was not a Puella Magi.

But Mami was a Puella Magi, and so was she. They were leagues away from any semblance of normalcy. The only things that kept them from drifting off was each other, and those who were waiting for their returns.

“Are you done yet? Because if you are, you need to stop slacking. We’ve got works to do.”

“Sakura-san-”

Kyoko retracted her hands. She whipped her spear out and turned to peer over their cover.

“You never called my name.” She said, off-handedly. “When we get out of here, you’re gonna start calling me by my name.” She glanced back, somewhat carelessly, somewhat seriously. “Deal?”

It only took a moment for Mami to nod. A weak but genuine smile finally broke through her misery.

“Deal.”

Without further words, they charged out from behind their hiding place. Mami did not miss any shots thereafter as she provided Kyoko with a storm of cover fire. Kyoko dashed into the midst of their enemies, slashing and hacking, knowing that someone’s got her back.

It was so easy to fall back into the routine, just like those good old days when they had not parted ways yet. As she mowed down waves after waves of humanoids, Kyoko began to wonder what it was that diverged their paths.

Before she found the answer, she was standing in front of the doll-like Wrath.

Without its servants, the Wrath proved to be an incompetent foe. Kyoko slashed the threads away with relative ease while she gained grounds rapidly.

And when she finally brought her spear down, effectively hacking the poor creature in halves, Kyoko had the strangest feelings. Looking down at its fading form, she thought she saw the doll gazing behind her, to Mami, and smiled with such innocent joy. Like it had ultimately found peace.

 


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just got my internet back. I'm going back to sleep now. Hope you enjoy this chapter.

Kyoko was reasonably furious when she found Sayaka and the girls waiting for them by the lake. Mami was upset too, but she was more relieved by Nagisa’s presence than anything. And with the way she spoiled her charge almost carelessly, Kyoko was unsurprised by the lack of reprehension on her part.

She would have made up for it personally and gave Sayaka hell for being a complete idiot by blatantly disregarding her own safety yet again, but that had to be put on hold for the moment. There was something far more pressing right now. And besides, she could always make time later to chew her out on her stupidity. They had plenty of time now that everything was more or less back to normal.

Or so she thought.

Kyoko never knew this was possible. Never even considered it. If not for the smoldering evidences, she might not have believed it.

And that was literal. Smoldering, as in still on fire as they approached the horrific scene. Fallen blocks of concrete. Pools of bubbling candle wax dragging for miles until it splashed against the apartment building, covering its walls and windows. And if not for the barely eligible checkered pattern, they would never have recognized the singed chunks as the horse that galloped up from the depth.

“This is a nightmare.” Mami whispered.

“No shit.” Kyoko glanced to the charred remain of the horse and quickly glanced away. “What’d you think happened? Self-destruction?”

“Looks that way. Although, I have never heard of such behavior from a Wrath.” Mami paused. “Unless…”

She trailed off, looking increasingly disturbed.

The same unease asserted itself in Kyoko as well, though she continued to dismiss it.

“Whatever it was, we can figure out later.”

“Yes.” Mami said, but shook her head. “…yes. We must help the people in the building first.”

“Alright.” Kyoko drew a deep breath and looked back to the others standing behind them, all of whom beheld the scene with evident horror. “You three, stay outside.”

“What?” Sayaka blinked. She was pale and looked like she might throw up, but she still protested. “But I can help!”

_ Now why did I know she would say that? _ Kyoko thought.

“Are you fuckin’ insane? This thing can collapse any minute. This ain’t no time to play hero!”

“This is precisely why you need more help! People’s lives are at stake.”

“Oh for the love of-”

Kyoko wanted to rip her hair out. She wasn’t at all surprised by Sayaka’s reasoning, but it didn’t make the situation any less frustrating. Worse, she knew Sayaka wouldn’t quit. Even if she continued refusing her demand, this idiot would just ignore her warning again and charge in.

“Urrrrgh.” She glowered. “Alright fine! But only on the first floor. Help evacuate whoever we manage to rescue and get the hell out at the first sign of trouble. Got it?”

Sayaka nodded and licked her lips. “Right.”

_ At least she has enough common sense to be nervous about the situation. _ Kyoko scowled at herself for giving in.  _ She isn’t a complete moron. _

But it was small comfort compared to the grim agitation that clouded over her. She had a bad feeling about this. Not just because they were going into a burning building that likely contained no survivor. Her instinct was trying to tell her something else, and she didn’t have the time to figure out what it was.

“Keep to the first floor. And close to the entrance.” She warned. “If I find out you moved one step too far-”

“Go!” Sayaka shouted. “People are counting on you!”

With one last scowl she and Mami boosted themselves up the side of the building. The two shared one quick glance before each chose a different floor to break in. Mami picked one of the lower floors, while Kyoko went as high as she could.

The window shattered easily under the magi-enhanced force. She rolled into a hallway crackling with flames. The heat didn’t impede her movement in the slightest, but it was definitely too much for any normal human. Getting anyone out would prove a difficult challenge.

Kyoko raced down the corridor. She didn’t try to call out. The smoke was too thick for anyone to respond, and the roaring of the fire would overpower any cry for help anyway. She started from the closest door and broke them down as she went, dashing in momentarily to each unit for any sign of life before moving on to the next.

Most of them were empty. The few which were still occupied had been so badly damaged that she needed only to take one look to determine the tenants were far beyond help.

Just after she checked the last unit of the current floor, the ceiling above started to groan. Chunks of flaming concrete crashed behind her.

Kyoko peered up from the cavity. All she saw was the rising fire and thick curtains of smoke. If there was still anyone above, they would be trapped and lost. She hesitated.

Should she risk going up? What was she to do even if she found anyone? They couldn’t come back down the same way. The fire would have spread through by that time. Besides, even if they could get past the intense heat, the smoke inhalation could just as easily kill them.

She really hoped any survivor had either barricaded themselves in, or gone to the roof. That way, they might still stand a chance. Maybe they could stick it out long enough. If not, well…

She started her way down.

Her job here was to find those who still stood a chance. She told herself. The firefighters would be here soon. They would be more well equipped to rescue those people. Or maybe there wasn’t anyone. It’s still early, but today’s a Monday, so surely most people had already left for school or work. Right?

Kyoko lost count of which floor this was that she checked, and how many doors she had already broken down. Presently, she was on the last unit of this level. So far had been either empty or abandoned.

She could sense Mami’s magic signature nearby, just one or two floors below. The presence lifted the invisible weight on her back. She exhaled, and hastened her steps toward the last door.

If all went well, she wouldn’t find anyone there either. Just debris and ruins of someone’s home…

But when she burst through, she ran headfirst into an invisible wall of acidic corruption.

Steps away from her, two sizzling heaps of flesh laid on the floor. Kyoko could barely see them through the orange glow eating away at the curtains and furnitures.

There were pools of boiling liquid all around. She didn’t know what it was, nor was she particularly inclined to find out.

They were barefeet. She noted. The clothes, already melted against their skin, were thin and light. The attire suggested the two victims might have still been asleep when the fire started. More than likely, they detected the smoke too late, panicked when they woke up, and suffocated from the thick smoke.

Of course, those were all conjecture. Without being here when it happened, she could not tell whether they might have had sufficient time to escape, or were doomed to die as soon as the Wrath reached this building.

But she wondered.

_ Male and female. Probably in their mid-thirties. _ She thought numbly.  _ Or fourties? _

And she wondered, about how it happened, who they were, and what their life would have been like.

A long minute passed before she forced herself to stop, and to avert her eyes from the corpses. There was no point dwelling on it. They were dead. There was nothing to be done.

Yet something nagged her at the back of her mind. A crack in the impenetrable vault. An empty picture frame. A spark in the ocean.

She took a step back.

Then, it happened. Something moved amongst the dancing shadows of the dead. A fleeting image passed the endless tongues of flames. A voice broke through all the crackling, hissing, and humming of fire. A small, soft cough.

Kyoko reacted. She nearly teleported across the short distance to the corpses and sank to her knees.

_ What am I doing? _

Her fingers touched the corpses. The scalding mass latched onto her eagerly, greedily.

_ They’re gone. _

She could feel death grasping at her, but she couldn’t let go. There was something important buried underneath. A truth she could not ignore.

_ There’s still… _

When she found the source of the movement, everything came to a halt. The apartment dissolved. The corpses evaporated. Even her thoughts faded away. The only thing that remained was the fire. The searing heat.

Beneath death was life. Beneath the dead couple was a little boy.

He gasped and looked up. His tiny face marred by blisters and pain, but his body and soul were both too scorched to shed any tears. Perhaps any he might have had vaporized before they were formed.

Something struck her. It was not the bewilderment of finding a survivor in the raging inferno. It wasn’t the horror she was witnessing, nor was it the miracle.

“H-” The boy opened his mouth with great difficulty. His withered lips trembled terribly as he gasped. “Help…”

She reached out to him. Her palms ached when she tried to tear them away from the corpses of the boy’s parents. They were so badly singed that, even with her magic, it was almost certain to leave lasting scars.

“It’s okay. I got you.” She said. “Hang in there. I’ve got you.”

“P-” The boy wheezed. “Plea-”

The word never fully formed. With something like a sigh, he went limp.

Kyoko’s hands were still in midair, still badly burnt, halfway to the boy.

The crack exploded.

She was here but not in the apartment anymore. She was alive in this moment but had been dead for a long while. She was looking at the boy but also not the boy. She was looking at Momo.

Momo. That name was the key to the vault. It was the shovel she buried herself with. Memories of her family crashed down on her like an ocean wave. That was the treasure in the vault. That was her apple of Eden.

“This isn’t what I want!”

She saw herself screaming in the church.

“I didn’t mean for this to happen!”

She left her father hanging. Her mother and baby little sister were bathed in crimson, her color.

“Please. God, please!”

The pools around her was blood. Was gasoline. Was all the promises and dreams.

She had something in her hand. A match. A candle. A torch.

She threw it away. Another one appeared in her hand. She stamped it out. Another replaced it without missing a beat.

Didn’t the Little Match Girl have a happy ending?

Her heartbeat.

_ If I light it, will I also see a happy ending? _

She struck it, but the flame was black. It wasn’t even fire. It was merely death. The cold burned harsher than any flame she could have conjured.

_ What do you want from me? _ She asked the silent god.  _ I followed your teaching. I believed. I did all I could. What more do you want from me? _

She was standing in front of her younger self, kneeling in the pool. What was it made of? Every tear she wept only added to the substance. What was she supposed to do?

She looked down.

The candle monster gazed back at her.

_ Ah. _ She heard her younger self said.  _ So that’s what it is. _

She tried to grab her head. She tried to stop it all. But she couldn’t forget.

The monster shrieked. The grief and despair echoed pierced through the flame and smoke, broke through heaven and hell. In one single moment of eternity, she relieved a hundred iterations of loss.

“Kyoko?!”

She didn’t realize someone was here. She didn’t realize she was broken. She didn’t even realize the scream actually came from herself. She should have.

_ What a fool I have been. _

She still couldn’t see past her church, but she recognized the voice. She knew the short blue hair swaying at the entrance. She had memorized the sound of her footsteps, her breathing, the way her eyes sparkled like stars over the horizon.

“Kyoko, what’s wrong?” Sayaka was running to her at full speed.

_ She shouldn’t be here. _ Kyoko was thinking.  _ She shouldn’t see me like this. _

She saw Sayaka catching sight of the horrific scene around her. She saw every detail of how her mind registered the burning corpses and the dead child. How they all clicked in the fraction of a second.

_ She shouldn’t see me at all. This had all been a mistake. _

“Oh god.” Sayaka half gasped, half gagged.

Her expression shifted with the heat. It must be unbearable. The heat. The tragedy. Everything.

_ This isn’t a mistake. _ And Kyoko understood.  _ Not her. Not the world. The fault was, is, and has always been… _

Sayaka was trying to brave the heat. She carefully navigated her way through the flames and ashes, and when she was finally by Kyoko’s side, she reached out.

“Kyoko, are you-”

Kyoko stumbled back.

“Don’t touch me!” She screamed. A different kind of burning cold filled her, and she could properly identify it as dread.

“What happened?” Sayaka tried again. When Kyoko retreated with her motion, she bit her lower lip in worry. “Are you hurt?”

Kyoko stared at her.

“How can I when I’m the cause?”

She didn’t even know those words were on the tip of her tongue. But they were the truth. She just never realized it until now.

“What? No-” Sayaka was struggling with herself on whether she should try to grab Kyoko again. The redhead was much stronger, and faster. Her attempt would most likely fail. And if Kyoko continued to back away, they would soon back into the flames. “You’re not making any sense.”

Kyoko laughed.

“You know better than that.” She felt faint, like a few months ago when her magic went berserk. Neither her body nor her mind was under her control anymore. Words just came to her. Thoughts. Memories. Maybe she wasn’t simply losing it. She was merely seeing the truth for the first time again. “You’ve always known, haven’t you?”

Sayaka looked shocked, only for the briefest of the moment. But that was all the confirmation Kyoko needed.

The dreams she had been having. The nameless friend without a face. A past that never happened. They were not just her imagination gone wild.

_ It was all true. It was all real. _

“Why are you here?” She heard herself ask. “Don’t you remember how many times I killed you?”

The questions hurt Sayaka just as much as they hurt Kyoko. She could see it in her eyes. They were still capable of forming tears. She was not that far gone. She could still be saved.

“You didn’t.” Sayaka said with all the determination she could muster and more. “You didn’t kill me! You  _ saved _ me.”

But it didn’t reach Kyoko.

“Ah.” She sighed. “Ah, how I wish.”

And now that she accepted the truth, she was powerless from stopping herself from remembering.

“But I never did. I never-” The sorrow of her futility came over her. She took another step back. “Ah! Forgive me!”

Sayaka tried again. “Listen to me!”

“I can’t see. I’ve always been blinded. The truth-”

She was within arm’s reach from her, but they were back to square one again. They were back to Homura’s world.

“Let me help you-”

“No!” Kyoko shook her head vehemently. She was still trying to convince Sayaka through reasons. “You must stay away. Or you…”

She waved her arms at their surroundings, or perhaps at herself. The motion was too erratic to decipher.

“…or you too will be in ruin.”

Sayaka had always suspected that was the main reason Kyoko did what she did, but it had always been purely speculation. This was the first and only time she had any solid proof. This was the first and only time she actually heard Kyoko spoke her mind so plainly.

It hurt.

“Please listen to me.” Sayaka tried to appeal. “This isn’t your fault-”

“It’s always been my fault!” Kyoko put her hands above her ears and was shaking her head like a shark caught in a net. “Momo… God. She must be crying in those last moments. She must have begged for me to come saver.”

Sayaka wanted to tell her that her sister never blamed her. She wholeheartedly believed it to be true. But in the end, she didn’t know Kyoko’s family. She never knew any of them personally. All that she knew, she either heard from stories, or saw through the eyes of a Goddess. Did that give her the right to say she knew better than Kyoko?

“But what have I done?” Kyoko rambled on. “Nothing! I was too late. I was always too late!”

“We’re still here.” She made another attempt, though she could already tell they would do no good. Those words were too insignificant. She wrecked her brain to find the right thing to say, but all she found were lame words that meant nothing. “You and I-”

Kyoko didn’t even hear her.

“I’m cursed.” She said it with such conviction, before she frowned, then laughed. “No. That’s not it. I see that now.”

She was laughing so hard tears came out. The light of the flame caught onto the droplets, and they looked like miniature sparks.

But when Kyoko looked up to her, they were hollow. She might as well really be blind, because she was not seeing what was right in front of her.

“Don’t you get it, Sayaka?” She whispered. “I  _ am _ the curse. Everything I touched… burned.”

A chill ran down Sayaka spine. The prelude was almost done, and there was only one way this could go if she didn’t do something about it soon.

“We can sort this out  _ afterward _ .” She tried a different tactic. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”

Kyoko was staring off to somewhere, some other time.

“There’s nowhere to go.” She said. “You were right next to me at the station and I couldn’t do a thing. You were fighting and I wasn’t there to help you. What’s all the magic in this world if I couldn’t do even that?”

She took another step back. The flame was literally licking at her hills.

“Leave me here. This fire is where I belong.”

Sayaka wanted to go to her. If this was how things would end, she would gladly follow her into the fire.

But she still had something more.

“I’m not going anywhere.” She told Kyoko. “Not without you.”

The words had some effects, though not entirely what she wished for. Kyoko looked torn. Her eyes briefly focused back to the present, but there was no comfort.

“Why?” She raised her voice. “Why did you still stay?”

She summoned her spear, pointing it at Sayaka. It was deja vu. It was like they were back to the first day, the first time they met. In that alley where she was chasing down a Familiar.

“Don’t you get it? This is better. I betrayed you. I betrayed all of you!” Her lips curled upward. “Even the person I betrayed you for.”

“I wouldn’t call that betrayal.”

Kyoko laughed again. She lowered her spear, only to bring it up again.

“Hey, remember that promise I made you?”

The tip laid directly above her heart. Directly at her Soul Gem, which was flickering like a dying flame. The tiniest amount of pressure would utterly destroy it.

Sayaka abandoned all pretense of calm. If it were to shatter right in front of her again… If she was to lose her again…

“Please. Don’t do this.” She pleaded. “I need you.”

Kyoko paused. She saw a different version of herself. Same age, perched against the highway pass, a stick of pocky in her mouth, shaking her head.

_ You never told her. _ That different her said.  _ But you know it, don’t you? _

Kyoko wasn’t completely sure what she was going to do. She knew what she intended to do only a moment ago, and it was because she was convinced that was justice. Only heroes get to overcome their adversity and live on, right?

But with Sayaka telling her this, with what the different her riddled her with, she wasn’t so sure anymore.

Would her self-sacrifice still accomplish what she wanted? Would the world truly become a better place without her? Or would bowing out now only prove that there was no redemption, that all she could cause was hurt?

_ Why don’t you try a different angle? _ Another voice said.  _ What was it you swore back then? _

“Cross my heart-” She recited the vow faithfully, with the same conviction she held that day. But she still felt so lost. “-and hope to die.”

Someone was laughing. She didn’t know who exactly. The voice was all inside her head. 

But whoever it was, they knew a lot more about the situation. Maybe they even knew the future. Because that short pause of hesitation changed everything.

Before she could come to a conclusion, yellow ribbons wrapped all around her and her spear.

Kyoko began to turn, but Mami was faster. She brought down the butt of her musket on her head.

Then Kyoko didn’t feel much anymore.

  
  


Mami discarded her musket to catch Kyoko. She looked upon the unconscious face of her former pupil with a heavy heart.

She knew that grief. Years ago, when she found her on the outskirt near the burning church, lying in the snow, Mami had seen that same empty look. It was a dark past, one she wished to leave behind. She should have known it would follow them like a shadow.

It was way too close. If she had been here a moment later, she might have missed the opportunity. And that would have been irreversible. She thanked whatever higher force was out there. Perhaps Nagisa and Sayaka were wrong, and the Goddess still protected them in a different way.

Speaking of which, her blue-haired friend was stumbling towards her. She was shaking uncontrollably, face white as a sheet of paper.

_ Poor girl. _ Mami thought to herself.  _ It must have given her a scare. _

Sayaka latched onto the unconscious Kyoko and buried her face in her shoulders. She was openly weeping now as she clutched tightly against the redhead.

Mami allowed her a few more moments to vent.

_ Must she suffer so? _ She asked to whatever might be out there.  _ She had suffered so much already. They both had. Do they not deserve to have their happiness? _

_ That is a strong word. _ A calm voice replied.  _ How does any being determine whether or not another deserves anything? How could anyone even determine whether they themselves deserve anything? _

It was a fair question, but Mami still resented it. Worse, she could not tell whether the concept originated from herself or someone else.

_ You thought it unkind, but that was the wrong assumption. Kindness had nothing to do with life.  _

The sirens of ambulances and firetrucks were approaching fast. It wouldn’t be long before the rescue workers arrived.

“Let’s get you two out of here.” She said to Sayaka, as gently as she could.

Sayaka nodded, her shoulders still shuddering violently. She suppressed her frightened sobs, one hand grasping tightly at Kyoko’s limp one, the other holding onto the corner of Mami’s sleeve like a lost child.

Mami led them out the burning apartment. She spared one last glance at the three corpses on the floor.

She was well aware there might still be people trapped in the building. They hadn't checked every room. Time did not permit it. And now Kyoko and Sayaka needed her, she had but one choice.

She found Nagisa and Yuma waiting in the parking lot across the street, hiding just out of sight. When they saw the three of them appear, they sprinted up to meet them.

And upon noticing Kyoko’s unresponsive form, Yuma paled.

“Kyoko-”

“She’s alive.” Mami reassured her. “Come on, let’s go someplace else before we talk.”

As if on cue, several fire-trucks, ambulances, and police cars rounded the corner, blazing down the street.

Mami detransformed. Sayaka came out of her stupor and stumbled over to help Mami adjust Kyoko onto her back. Should anyone notice them, they would only think Kyoko had fallen asleep.

After that, they hastily left the scene. There was a highwaypass nearby, and they took shelter underneath.

Mami placed Kyoko on the floor carefully. Nagisa stood behind her peering over her shoulder, while Yuma and Sayaka crowded on the other side.

“What happened?” Yuma asked.

“It was…” Mami glanced over to Sayaka, who still seemed shaken by the whole turn of events. “We were too late to save some people.”

Sayaka gripped one of Kyoko’s hand, while Yuma nodded solemnly. Nagisa came up from behind Mami and nuzzled her back. The whole world seemed to hold a moment of silence.

Life is often plagued by traumatic events such as what they experienced today. Often the pain echoed through time as new injuries were inflicted upon old scars. It was the way of the world. Mami knew it was impractical to expect sufferings to end, for it was an intricate part that defined life.

But maybe the worst had come to pass. Maybe they could hope for a glimmer of light in the future.

“Here is what we are going to do.” Mami announced after a moment. “Nagisa and I will carry Kyoko back to our apartment.”

“I-” Sayaka tightened her hold on Kyoko’s hand, almost possessively. Her voice was hoarse and raspy. She was no longer a Puella Magi, and her reckless action had its consequences. “Let me. I can do it.”

“I have no doubt.” Mami lied. “But you need to take Yuma back to the apartment. And you have to go home as well.”

“I can't just leave her-”

“You sneaked out.” Mami said. “I don't suppose your parents know where you are?”

Sayaka looked away. She never anticipated so many things to happen in one night. But then again, she never assumed the night would go easily for any of them. Especially when gigantic Wraths were involved.

“Besides, today might be a holiday, but tomorrow is not. You will have to-”

“What?” Sayaka snapped. “Go to school? Do well in class? Care about all those meaningless things?”

“-exactly.”

“No way in hell!” Sayaka glared. “My place is here. Right next to her!”

“I am not telling you to abandon her. I am asking you to take care of yourself first.”

“I’m perfectly fine!”

“No.” Mami responded sternly. Sometimes her friends could be so frustratingly stubborn. “No, you are not. You are in no position to help Sakura-san, physically or emotionally.”

She took a deep breath.

“Do you know what we saw under the lake?” Her hands shook slightly when she recalled the yellow doll dancing amongst its colorful servants. “Candeloro. Me. We saw my despair, or a figment of it, anyway…”

Nagisa tightened her hug from behind. Sayaka gaped, her expression caught between horrified and fascinated at the revelation. Yuma had no idea what they were talking about, but she sat alert, fully aware what she did not understand was something bad.

Mami drew in another breath to calm herself. It was difficult to muster the strength.

“It stands to reason, the other that escaped from the lake… was a reflection of Sakura-san. What was its name, again?”

“Ophelia.” Sayaka sighed, looking down to Kyoko’s unconscious face again. “Her name was Ophelia.”

Mami nodded. The name sounded unfamiliar to her, and she wondered briefly whether she had ever met Kyoko’s despair in one of the previous timelines. It never came up in the stories Nagisa related to her.

But this was neither the time or place to figure that out.

“Therefore, I suspect Sakura-san is, or will be, experiencing similar visions I had since I was made aware of the other timelines.” She said. “Not to put too fine a point on it, I believe I will be best suited to help her through this trying period of adjustment time.”

Sayaka did not reply for quite some time. Her brows furrowed into deep creases. It was evident she still wanted to protest against Mami’s decision, but she knew it would be counterproductive to ensuring Kyoko’s well-being.

“I understand.” She said at last and, with visible effort, let go of Kyoko’s hand. “You’re right. I’m sorry for yelling, Mami-san.”

“It is alright.” Mami smiled touched Sayaka’s hand gently. “I know how important Sakura-san is to you… but she is my treasured friend, too.”

“I know.” Sayaka said, abashed. “I didn’t mean it that way. I trust you, and I’m sure Kyoko does too.”

“Oh, I never questioned it.” Mami chuckled. “Okay, I did wonder occasionally, but I think I was mostly doubting whether I could be the mentor you deserve.”

“You’re fantastic.” Sayaka said earnestly.

“Thank you.” Mami squeezed her hand appreciatively, before her tone took a playful turn. “And it is a senpai’s duty to take care of her kouhai. That included all of you.”

Her smile faded into seriousness.

“To be perfectly honest, I am responsible for this, if not more than you.” Her eyes dimmed with wistful memories. “I was her mentor, yet I failed her again and again, never realizing just how badly she was hurting. I failed to recognize her willingness to lay down her life, to suffer for others.”

Dared she hope the worst had come to pass? Dared she hope they could hope for a glimmer of light in the future.

It wouldn’t need to be a paradise. They wouldn’t need someone else to shoulder their burdens. There might not be an afterlife where all was forgiven, where someone else cleansed them of their griefs, but that’s okay.

“It is as you said, Miki-san. I am finally given the chance I have been waiting for.”

She wanted to take a leap of faith. She wanted to believe that they held the power themselves to find salvation in this earth, in this world.

“I refuse to let the candle burn out.”

  
  



	28. Chapter 28

Kyoko dreamt of the cherry blossom tree near her church.

The branches were bare under the cold gray sky, frozen in perfect stillness even as the unrelenting winter storm blew past. She traced her fingers through one of its twig, wondering whether she should snap it off to make a fire.

“Do you think it’ll ever grow again?”

A curious voice asked.

She tried to turn, to see who the speaker was. All she could focus on was the bald branches.

“It used to be so pretty.” The voice commented. “Is it pretty because it’s falling, or is it pretty despite it’s falling?”

“A bit of both, I think.” Kyoko heard herself say. “It’s always beautiful, but we only really notice it when it’s nearly gone.”

“It’s our fault to not appreciate it then?”

“Not exactly. We find a different kind of appreciation, is all. Some sort of poetic tragedy.”

“Ah.” The voice sighed. “The blazing snow of July.”

 

* * *

 

An unfamiliar ceiling greeted her when she came to.

Kyoko blinked several times. Panic rambled in the pit of her stomach. She tried to sit up, but her limbs were restrained. Some implacable force had held her hostage.

Suddenly, a small face popped into view, and her restraints became a good thing. Her hands jerked involuntarily in an effort to either grab or drive away the shadow. She had trouble determining which. Because for the briefest of moment, she thought it was the burnt corpse of her little sister.

But instead of maroon, the small face wore wavy, shoulder-length white hair.

“Hi.” Nagisa said.

“…Hey.” Kyoko replied. The word was phrased like a question without her meaning to.

“How you feelin’?”

Her body ached all over, but her head was the worst. She could have sworn someone used her head as a soccer ball. “Fine.” She lied.

Nagisa beamed down at her harmlessly. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

Kyoko made a noncommittal noise.

The girl pressed her face closer. Her cheerful expression morphed into a seriousness beyond her age. “Do you remember your promise?”

“My promise?”

“The one you made a while ago, at the bus station.”

Now that Nagisa mentioned it, Kyoko did recall. She averted her gaze. Half because her head was still pounding like someone embedded a warhammer inside, half because the memory made her ashamed.

Nagisa pouted a little, but held her gaze. “Do you?”

Kyoko tried to look at her face and answer, but her eyes kept drifting to the side. She tried to lie and say she didn’t remember, but the words wouldn’t come out.

Finally, she just nodded stiffly.

Nagisa didn’t seem to care how long it took her to respond. “Good.” She smiled again. “But just in case - without you, it won’t be a happy ending.”

That statement brought a turmoil of emotions within. She bit her lips to prevent herself from scowling, but she had no idea whether the attempt was successful or not.

Nagisa wasn’t giving any indication either. She just kept staring at Kyoko. “Got it?”

It took Kyoko considerably longer to force herself to nod again.

Nagisa straightened up a little, and held out her right hand. “Pinky promise?”

“I-” Kyoko stared at the offered hand, struggling to swallow the bitterness. “I can’t move.”

“I can fix that.” Nagisa bobbed her head energetically. She turned halfway around and hollered. “Mami! Kyoko’s awake.”

Mami entered moments later with a tray. “Good evening, Sakura-san.” She greeted Kyoko warmly as she sat down next to the bed.

She caught a whiff of hot chocolate and caramelized apple. “Are you gonna untie me?”

Mami took her sweet time to put down the tray. “Yes.” She snapped her fingers quite unnecessarily. The ribbons vanished. “We should talk.”

“There’s nothing to talk about.” Kyoko rubbed her wrists. “I fucked up.”

“There was more to that and you know it.”

“Yeah, there was.” She stared at where the ribbons were. They felt like iron chains when they wrapped around her limbs, but there were no marks. “Sayaka was an idiot for running into a building on fire.”

Mami sighed. “Let’s not change the subject.”

“Sure.” Kyoko gave her a wicked, crooked grin that held no humor. “I lost it, and I’m damn lucky to still be alive.”

“It was not luck that saved you.”

She was right, of course. Sayaka did, and Mami herself.

Kyoko had trouble deciding whether that was fortunate or not. Her head was still pounding with the lingering heat from the building. The faceless monster stared back at her, demanding.

“What do you want from me?” She murmured, rubbing her face in her palm. “A heartfelt confession? I’m sorry, alright?”

“That is not what I want. At least, you need not apologize for being in pain.”

Just as well, because she felt more exhausted than sorry.

“Then what?”

“To be honest?” Mami drew in a deep breath. She folded her hands over her knees, and her lips pursed into a thin line wounded up tighter than a fishing line. “I am just crossed with you, for giving up.”

It should not hurt as much to hear the disappointment in Mami’s gentle voice. Kyoko looked down and away, boring a hole in her knuckles and the bedsheet within their confines. Up to this point of her life, she had been nothing but a disappointment to everyone who was counting on her.

“It was irresponsible.” Mami continued sternly. “By giving up, you dishonored the memories of your family.”

“I know that!”

She barked. A low growl resonated in her throat, originating from somewhere deeper in her core. Her fangs snapped unconsciously as she tried fend off her injury, only to add fresh wounds to the inside of cheeks and her lower lip.

Mami did not back down, but there was a fresh layer of sympathy in the way she regarded her. It burnt terribly.

“I know-”

Kyoko forced the words out. They were nothing she ever said to anyone before, yet some unexplainable urgency compelled her to speak. Another part of her - the more stubborn, more rational part - tried to suppress them, but they still slipped through like wind through the cracks of stones 

“I know I have no right to die.” She willed the tears back into her eyes. There shouldn’t be any more tears. She was the fire. “But how can I keep going on when they’ve lost their chance? How is it I deserve to live after what I’ve done to them?”

“Why do you still insist you did not do it to torment yourself?”

“I’m not-”

“How long will you keep deceiving yourself? Was obligation not part of the reasons you chose to live?”

“No!”

Spittles of blood flew everywhere with the violent movement of her head, but Kyoko did not notice. She had to dispel the doubts. She could not allow herself to believe she was anything but selfish. Hope was a pair of wings, but beneath her was bottomless abyss.

“I lived because I was a coward! Because it’s easier-”

“That is total nonsense and you know it.” Mami’s eyes flared with her temper. For a moment, she seemed about to strike. The unusual aggression startled Kyoko into temporary stupor.

Mami sighed.

“Life is by no mean easy. We do not get to decide whether we deserve it or not.” She tried a smile. “But we are getting sidetracked here. Giving up would have been unfair to those who care about you - not just your family. Myself, Nagisa, Yuma-chan… can you really leave her behind?”

“I-”

Yuma was  _ her _ responsibility. That’s what she had always told herself.

But what if that was not true? What if she was only keeping Yuma around for her own gain?  _ That must be it. _ She thought with isolated horror.  _ I was using her as a replacement for Momo. _

A bile rushed up.  _ Oh god. Oh god what have I done? _

After Mami took Yuma in, she should have left the city. She should have gone away and hid. That would have been best for everyone involved.

“She’s-” Kyoko swallowed the burning bitterness. Her body trembled as she struggled to get the words out. The horrible truth of the sins she wasn’t aware she committed threatened to shake the last straw of her stability. “She’s still young. She would have forgotten about me in a few years.”

Mami slapped the topside of her head.

“Do you honestly believe that?”

The assault was nothing severe. Mami was unreserved in expressing her displeasure, but it would take a lot more to hurt a Puella Magi.

Still, Kyoko was quite shaken by the apparent anger. She was rendered speechless. All her doubts and fears seemed to have crumbled like a house of cards. They would rebuild themselves soon enough, she was certain of that, but Mami pressed on before they could fully reform.

“Actually, don’t answer that.” She sighed. “Yuma-chan aside. Could you really do that to Miki-san?”

Kyoko recoiled from the name. “What about Sayaka?”

Mami struck her again, though this time it was a lot less punishing.

“Come now. Even a blind person can see what is happening between the two of you.” She chided. Kyoko thought she might have imagined the tinge of amusement through her criticism. “The only reason we did not intervene more actively was because we thought you two can sort things out yourselves.”

“We’re not-” Kyoko began, but had to pause to clear her throat. A lemon just lodged itself in her windpipe.

And she could not stop thinking about the girl who stuck to her side. The strange affection that seemed to come out of nowhere. The ease with which they built their trust and relationship. How did she allow herself to be drawn to someone? And why did it feel so natural?

“I-”

She could recall every day they spent together. Those afternoons where she beheld her under the tree outside Ms. Tanaka’s store, her hair flowing like river in the breeze. Those mornings when she hummed a familiar tune as she busied herself in the kitchen, the cherry blossom patterned apron swaying with her movement. All the nights they walked, under the stars, through deserted streets, together.

“She-”

Holding it together at that moment felt like holding dry sand. It was nothing short of a miracle that she could still wheeze out anything. But if there was water… if she had…

“She deserves so much better.”

Mami laid a hand on her shoulder.

“Again, it is not about deserving.” She said gently. “Miki-san has made her decision, a long time ago.” She sighed again. “And, if you will not take responsibility for stealing a girl’s heart, I am afraid I will have no choice but to discipline you. As Miki-san’s senpai.”

Kyoko shot her a increduled glance.

“…really? You’re pulling the age card now?”

“Only if you force me to.” Mami hummed with a more relaxed, playful smile. “No girls ever like to ‘pull the age card’.”

Kyoko shook her head. She was entirely lost on how she should feel right now.

“Jokes aside,” Mami continued. “I think you are also forgetting something.”

“What?”

“I am not just Miki-san’s senpai.”

Kyoko stared. Tensions returned at once. She knew they would inevitably come back to this, but she had hoped, perhaps foolishly, that such a day might never come to pass.

“Mami…”

“Let me.” Mami put up a hand. “I… I  _ am _ still your mentor. That is, if only you will accept me back into your life.”

There were so many reasons why that would be a terrible idea. Too many, in fact, that Kyoko could not think of any on the top of her head.

“I have a confession to make.” Mami said gently. “Will you hear it? Will you hear my confession, and absolve me of my sin?”

There really was no other option. Mami gave none, anyway. Not with the way she drew in a deep breath, looked directly into Kyoko’s eyes, and smiled.

“I made a mistake. I thought by putting up a strong front, I would be the mentor you need.”

Kyoko wondered how many times she rehearsed this.

“The truth is I was never that strong. I could never handle loneliness well, let alone being independent and courageous. The truth is- I need you too.”

Of course, Kyoko knew that, even before they parted ways. Back then, she wholeheartedly believed their separation would do more good than harm. Mami could always find another partner. She was just that approachable and kind.

And what she needed was someone whom she could rely on, not a broken hinderance who could barely hold her own weight in a fight.

Kyoko never expected to live long after they parted. What a surprise she adopted to her new lifestyle, even if there were several instances she nearly didn’t make it.

Neither did she ever expect to see Mami ever again. Taking care of Yuma occupied most of her attention, sure, but a part of her also figured they were dead to each other. She was the one who instigated the betrayal. What face did she have to go back to the bright and warm place?

“You have others.” She managed. “Nagisa, and Sayaka-”

“Did I not mention I am very demanding?” Mami retorted calmly. “I need everybody. Nagisa, Miki-san, Yuma-chan… and you.”

It was a terrible mistake. Kyoko wanted to tell her.  _ You don’t need me. You never did, and you never should. I am empty. There’s nothing I can give. _

But Mami wouldn’t accept that, would she? She needed more sound reasoning. Nothing was not good enough a reason for her to abandon Kyoko. She needed to see the faults in her. Mami needed to know it was the pupil who failed.

“I can’t-” She couldn’t stop herself from shaking. Her voice cracked like ice trampled under heavy boots. “I’m selfish.”

“What a coincidence. Me too.”

“I’m- I’m a monster.”

“No.” Mami corrected. Not reprimanding, but the single word carried more sternness than a submarine. “No, you are not. You are one of the bravest, most devoted person I have ever had the pleasure to know.”

A part of Kyoko wanted to retort that the amount of acquaintances she had could probably be counted with two hands. Another part was too eager to counter a different point about her statement. And that part spoke.a

“I’m not. I turned my back on everyone.”

She wasn’t sure exactly what she was talking about, but she knew it to be true.

Mami did not seem confused as she was. She sat perfectly composed.

“You did what you thought was best. No one blames you but yourself.”

Kyoko opened her mouth. How could anyone think otherwise? This was a truth she knew from the bottom of her heart. There must be a way she could express this to Mami. Maybe if she could find a concrete example, she could make her see-

Beware of what you wish for.

She saw the dark room, stale with corruption. The sunken face from her nightmare towered above, reflecting her ignorant fear in hollow, weeping eyes.

“Sakura-san?”

How did she forget?

“You’re wrong.”

Because she forced herself to. Because she could not entertain the notion of what might have happened.

And nobody must see it. No one must know. Not even herself.

“You’re wrong. I’m not worthy.”

She tried to push that dark room out of her mind. To bury it under layers of carefully guarded memories. She was aware it might have been too late. Some things were difficult to remember, but once uncovered, they could never be tucked away again.

“You are awfully adamant about this.” Mami observed.

From the slight hesitation, Kyoko knew she understood it was a sensitive subject. But she pushed forward anyway, only more carefully.

"Why is that?”

Silence would be meaningless, but she could not bear speaking of that event.

“Because it’s true.”

“That can’t be it. Please, don’t shut me out again. Tell me. Is there something else?”

Kyoko struggled to swallow the lump in her throat.

_ Yes. _ She wanted to say.  _ I am a coward. I ran away from his judgement, from his punishment. _

She remembered how she flinched and turned.

_ When I came back they were all dead. I killed them. _

“I-” She mumbled. What could she even say?

_ I ran. I ran when he laid his hands on me. _

“I fed Nagisa cheesecake couple months ago.”

Mami raised a brow. She was not expecting this reply, nor was she convinced this was really what Kyoko meant to say, jokes or not. But she nodded.

“That is fine.” She offered. “I will just deduct it from her next snack.”

“Hey!” Nagisa piped up from the side.

Kyoko jumped. She had completely forgotten she was also still in the room.

“That’s not fair.” The girl pouted at her guardian for a moment. “That’s like,  _ ages _ ago!”

“You know the rules.”

“It was for a good cause!”

They both turned to Kyoko at once. Kyoko shrugged. “She said what you didn’t know wouldn’t hurt.”

Mami nodded with a regal “ah” as she glanced sideway to her charge. Nagisa practically deflated. But when Mami turned her back to her, she straightened up and mouthed to Kyoko, “you gonna make it up to me.”

“I can hear you” was Mami’s unimpressed intervention.

Nagisa shrank back and whined.

Mami allowed herself to chuckle at Nagisa’s expense. Even Kyoko managed a weak smile.

For a while, the weight pressing down on her seemed to lift. The normalcy which she always longed for but could never touch or see, felt like they were finally within her reach.

Would it really be alright for her to accept such generosity?

“There is something else.” Mami said, breaking the serenity. “It will be neither pleasant nor easy, but I need you to be honest with me.”

“I just can’t catch a break, can I?”

She had no idea she said it out loud until she heard her own voice.

“Bear with me.” Mami laid a hand on Kyoko’s elbow, squeezing gently to share some of her strength. Her expression was heavy. “Have you…” She paused to search for the right words. “Aside from what happened a few years ago, do you remember anything else?”

Kyoko almost pulled away. She was frightened by the sudden grimness that loomed over them.

“Flashes of images. Ideas that came out of nowhere. Maybe?” Mami was struggling to get her words out. “Things you are almost certain never said to you before… anything?”

As Mami spoke, Kyoko felt her muscles tense. Her heart was wrung like old, dirty cloth.

She was back inside the burning building again, looking down at the pool of melted wax. At her own reflection. At the manifestation of all her sins.

“Those…” She whispered. “Those aren’t just dreams, are they?”

Mami did not say anything else, but she didn't have to. Kyoko knew the answer already. Mami propped herself up and took Kyoko into her arms.

“It’s alright.” She soothed. “It’s all in the past.”

“But they are not the past.” Kyoko’s lips trembled.

When was the last time she was held like this? The sensation of a warm embrace did wonder to soften her guard. But with the walls crumbling down, she was beginning to see everything she had chosen to ignore over time.

“Those are just different realities. Oh god…”

Mami squeezed a little harder to draw her attention back. “Do you understand why Miki-san stayed by your side now?”

Kyoko had always had an inkling, even before this revelation. She just never knew the extent of their entanglement. And it was both a blessing and a curse to know.

“She shouldn’t have.” She spat bitterly. “I betrayed her. I killed her. I…”

“You saved her.” Mami asserted. “You always sacrificed yourself for others, Sakura-san. For those who aren’t with us anymore. For me. And so many times, you did it  _ for  _ her,  _ because of  _ her.”

But it changed nothing. She never succeeded in any of her attempt to save others. Everytime she tried, it just ended up making a bigger mess out of their ordeal.

“You are being too harsh on yourself.” Mami replied. Apparently she had spoken her mind out loud. “You followed her to the other side, did you not? Sure, you joined the other side, but do you deny you did it to protect us? Did you not allow yourself to be defeated in the end?”

“Those are…” She swallowed again. “Those are just my own selfishness.”

“That’s enough self-resentment, Sakura-san.” Mami released her, only so that they could look at each other directly in the face. “Wake up and face the truth, you have people who love you. And even if you forget, I will always be there to remind you.”

It was impossible to put up any sufficient disguise. All her vulnerabilities were laid bare.

“I am your senpai after all.”

Kyoko gripped Mami’s arms tightly, struggling to keep herself upright.

“No.” She whispered through her sobs. Dark stains spread through where warm liquids fell from her face. “No. Mami, you are…”

She took a shaky breath. Mami waited patiently for her to continue.

At last, she gathered herself enough to squeeze out four more words.

“You are my family.”

It took Mami a good few seconds to register those words. It took several more seconds for her to completely process their meanings, and even longer to believe in what she heard.

When she got past her doubts, she closed her eyes and sighed.

This was the last piece of the puzzle she had been waiting for. This was the beginning to the end of their sufferings. In this new world with all sorts of unknown. Theirs was a song of never-ending battle in pursuit of freedom and happiness.

And the trumpet now echoed the rising rays of the sun. The curtains were drawn to reveal the first glimpse of their bright, uncertain future.

“Then.” She asked softly. “What should you say now?”

Kyoko’s grip tightened.

“Tadaima.”

“Okaeri.”

Mami could feel the dampness in front of her shirt widen and deepen. In a strange way, it both broke her heart and completed her.

“Mami.” Kyoko strained as she held on tighter. “Mami-san.”

“I’m here.”

“Mami-san. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s alright.”

“Mami-san.”

“Shhh.” Mami said, wiping away the tears, falling like meteor showers. But she was crying too. “You are home now, Kyoko.”

Kyoko collapsed into her arms. For a long time she stayed there, like she was making up for all the lost time between them over the years. She let out all her sorrow and fear. All her regret and gratification.

Nagisa stood by, watching over them quietly.

She thought of their goddess, and wished they had done well enough to make up for the salvation she was unable to give.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy birthday, Miki Sayaka.
> 
> Also, last two chapters will be posted in about 24 hours.


	29. Chapter 29

Mami walked her back to the apartment.

Kyoko was reluctant at first, looking for all sorts of excuse to stay in the newfound comfort in the presence of her mentor. She mentioned wanting to return to Kazamino also, if only for a few days to clear her head. But Mami refused her request.

“You must not run away.”

“I’m not.” Kyoko protested. “I just… I just want some time to sort things out. On my own.”

“Normally I would support some time for contemplation.” Mami gave a wry smile. “But we both know you do not have the best track record.”

Kyoko did not ask regarding what.

“You owe her that much,” Mami added unhelpfully. “After everything you both have been through, you owe it to yourself as well.”

Bemused and somewhat confused, Kyoko scoffed back. “What do I owe myself?”

But Mami squeezed her shoulder firmly. “Happiness.”

That was, more or less, how they ended up in front of the door Kyoko had become quite familiar with. Looking upon the dull, plain wooden plank, which was contrasted by the shining metal frame around it, Kyoko could not help but reflect upon the strangeness of her current situation.

A year ago… no, even half a year ago, if anyone was to tell her she would be asked to pursuit happiness, by her former mentor no less, she would have laughed. She would have laughed so hard that she bent over, with tears pouring freely out. Then, once she collected herself, she would have stood up straight and punched whoever made such claim with enough strength they would be guaranteed to remain bedridden for months.

She raised her fist to knock. However, as if an invisible field surrounded the residence, her arm stilled in midair, unable to move forward.

Seeing her hesitation, Mami sighed silently and resolved to take it upon herself to announce their arrival.

There was audible scrambling and scurrying behind the closed door. A small gasp that she could identify belonging to Yuma.

“Didn’t you text-” Kyoko began, but was interrupted abruptly by the violent opening of the door. Her eyes, almost instinctively, fell upon the figure now standing, facing her.

And despite Sayaka’s ragged, disheveled appearance, Kyoko’s heart still did one of those weird little somersaults.

There was a second of utter silence and stillness between them. Sayaka stared at Kyoko with such intensity it did not seem preposterous to think she might slap Kyoko.

Kyoko shuffled on her feet awkwardly, and rubbed the back of her head.

“Hey.” She mumbled, feeling quite inadequate all of the sudden.

Sayaka’s eyes glimmered. For a moment, Kyoko prepared for a physical assault. She knew it would not hurt, and that she full well deserved it. But instead, Sayaka cleared her throat roughly and looked towards Mami instead.

“Thank you for bringing her back, Mami-san.” She whispered.

And it was at that moment Kyoko realized the shine she saw was not an indication of danger, but of tremendous relief. Of joy. Of…

“It is no problem.” Mami assured Sayaka with a soft smile. “I am grateful of the chance to resolve the rift between us.”

Kyoko lowered her head in shame.

She had only ever wanted to help others, whether by making that stupid wish, or by staying out of the way, or by saying things others were too afraid to say. Why was it that she always strayed from her goal?

Sayaka cracked a smile. It was weak and powdered with exhaustions, but genuine.

“I’m glad to hear that.”

Kyoko lowered her head further, if that was even possible. That was the moment she spotted Yuma, hiding behind Sayaka and peering over cautiously, as if afraid she might disturb the delicate balance this conversation seemed to sit on.

When their eyes met, Yuma said nothing, but gave her an encouraging grin.

“How about I take Yuma-chan off your hands?” Noticing the girl, Mami offered. “I imagine the two of you have a lot to discuss.”

Sayaka looked down to the child, who nodded obediently before bounding into Mami’s arms.

“I should return.” Mami announced, caressing the top of Yuma’s head gently. “Nagisa is waiting.”

Kyoko desperately tried to say something, but her tongue was tied into a thousand knots. All she could do, in the end, was watch the pair descended below the stairs, and out of sight, while Sayaka waved goodbyes.

The silence that settled upon them after the fading footsteps was almost too great to bear. They stood within arm’s reach, yet to Kyoko, it seemed impossible to breach the distance between them. A chasm she dug herself.

She cleared her throat.

“Sayaka-”

“Don’t just stand there.” Sayaka said, turning back into the apartment. “Have you had breakfast yet?”

Kyoko was about to reply when Sayaka continued, still not looking back. “Oh, what am I talking about? Of course you did. You were at Mami-san’s. Of course you already did.”

Without thinking, Kyoko reached out and grabbed her elbow.

“Sayaka.” She pleaded.

But Sayaka did not turn. Her stiff posture relaxed, but only a little.

Kyoko tried a little harder. She had not the faintest idea what she was going to say, only that there was so much she wished she could convey.

“Sayaka, I-”

She stopped when she noticed Sayaka trembling, before she quickly wiped her face with her free hand.

Kyoko let go out her grip.

“Sayaka.” She said, her voice quiet like the sound of fallen cherry blossom petals. “Would you cook for me?”

It was another few seconds before Sayaka composed herself enough to look back. But when she did, Kyoko could still see the marks of tear stains and worry, carved into her brows and cheeks.

“Of course.” She replied with equal tenderness. “But I’ll have to start charging you.”

 

* * *

 

Kyoko leaned on the archway leading into the kitchen, watching Sayaka donning the cerulean apron and rolling up her sleeves.

A part of her was bewildered by the very idea that someone would even consider making her meals (Mami didn’t count, she thought, because preparing food for others seemed to be her one enjoyment). She supposed the reaction was quite delayed, considering the duration Sayaka had employed the practise. Still, she could not help but marvel at her fortune. Perhaps it was dumb luck. She reflected. Perhaps something this good was not meant to last.

Another part of her wondered, with bittersweet fondness, whether this was how her father had felt once upon a time. Before the madness occupied his mind. Before the curse she casted upon their family.

“I have always wanted to do this, you know.” Sayaka said suddenly.

Kyoko was so entranced by the various thoughts in her mind - her consideration regarding her fortune, the memories of bygone days, the way the edge of the apron fluttered as Sayaka moved about, and the ceaseless thumping in her chest - that  she nearly forgot to respond.

“Do what?”

Sayaka looked back, with half a smile. “Cook for you.”

Kyoko was caught off guard, whether by the playfulness in her tone or by the tenderness in her eyes or, god, by the beauty radiating from her very being, she might never discover.

“But you have been.” She nearly stuttered. After a cough to regain just a tad of dignity, she added. “For months now.”

Sayaka smiled, and turned back to her chore. “And I haven’t changed my mind.”

Kyoko had nothing constructive to add, so she said simply “oh.”

Sayaka chuckled, perhaps at her clumsiness. “Do you remember the first time I cooked?”

Kyoko could not have forgotten it. Not at that moment, anyway. And she suspected the memory should stay with her for quite a while, provided her career did not put an abrupt end to it.

“I had no idea what I was doing.” Sayaka continued. “I thought for sure I would mess something up.”

That was surprising, considering the end result. “Really? I couldn't tell. It was great.” She blurted out.

“No it wasn’t.” Sayaka chuckled again. “It was the product of impulse. I just saw how much you enjoyed Mami-san’s deserts, and I…”

She trailed off, and Kyoko found herself looking away, partially because she did not know what to say.

“…oh.”

After another moment of silence, during which Sayaka was examining a carton of eggs from the fridge, she continued as if she was merely voicing out her thoughts aloud.

“I was so nervous.” She said it with a sigh. “I stood there looking at all those raw ingredients and thought, ‘why haven’t I practiced more?’ I felt so defeated.”

“Hey.” Kyoko straightened a little, overtaken by a certain defensiveness. “There’s no point worrying. It’s good.”

Sayaka placed the carton back.

“I don’t want it to be just good.” She whispered, before she turned fully to Kyoko. ”Or great.” She took a step forward. “I’m still learning, but I want it to be so much more. ”

They were inches apart. Kyoko could smell her shampoo where she stood. Her arms were still folded over her chest, and she fiercely wished she could change her pose, yet the position between them felt to fragile for any sudden movement.

In the end, she could only squeeze out.

“It makes you happy?” She asked, half curious. “I mean, cooking?” She hesitated, but added nonetheless. “… for me?”

Sayaka’s face seemed to glow when she smiled.

“Yes.” She said, without any sign of doubt. The smile stretched from the corner of her lips to her eyes, which seemed to magically melt any retort Kyoko might have as she said, with sincerity she had only heard once before. “Yes, it does.”

Kyoko was lost in the smile, or perhaps in her reply. She stood dumbstruck by the sight she beheld, her mind wandering to meaningless question such as whether any other soul ever had the enviable luck to receive such gift.

But Sayaka was not done yet. Caught up in her passion, she expanded on the circumstance.

“And now with Yuma here, everything’s only going to get better.”

The mention of Yuma was like a bucket of cold water. It shook her out of her reverie and inexplicably brought her back to reality.

There was a reason she never acted upon her desire, wasn’t there? There were numerous times she considered entrusting the welfare of the child to Mami. She had struggled, vainly, to separate herself from false hopes.

This was yet another crossroad where she got to choose which way the course of history shall go. If not for the innumerable persons living in this world, then for those she had encountered and no doubt had left a mark.

Kyoko swallowed.

“I want to ask you something.”

Sayaka tilted her head, and made a slight noise “hm?”

Considering what she was about to ask, the gesture nearly broke Kyoko’s heart.

“Will you…” She took a deep breath, only to sigh more deeply. “You will take care of Yuma, right?”

“Of course.” Sayaka replied without a second thought.

But judging by her confusion, Kyoko understood she did not grasp the true meaning behind her promise. Sayaka, if Kyoko could be bold enough to claim to know her, was somewhat of a naive romantic.

“No. I mean…” She took a half a step back, and already felt it unbearable. “I mean when I’m gone.”

The smile faded, slowly, away from Sayaka’s cheerful and tender expression. Kyoko could see her first registering, then processing, but not at all accepting the implication despite fully understanding it.

“…what are you talking about?”

It was among one of the last things Kyoko wanted to answer. She faced the soundless accusation directed her way, and could not help but feel like the worst villain.

“You know what I'm talking about.” She replied calmly, and a bit helplessly. “It’s inevitable.”

Sayaka said nothing, but her gaze dared Kyoko to explained herself.

So Kyoko sucked in another deep breath and tried her best to elaborate. The words stung, even to herself.

“You really should get away, you know. You and Nagisa both.” She lamented first. “No Puella Magi ever lived to adulthood. You'll only get hurt if you stay. Soon, Mami and I will both…”

Sayaka interrupted her.

“Don't say that!”

Kyoko faced her, looked her deeply in her eyes. She wished desperately to convey it was not her desire, nor design.

“It's reality. You can't avoid it.”

“I refuse to believe that!” Sayaka cried, clutching to Kyoko’s hoodie, face buried in the crook of her neck.

The warmth startled Kyoko, nearly sending her stumbling backwards. Yet for reasons unknown to herself, as if a higher function inside herself had activated without her knowing, her arms wrapped around Sayaka.

_ She’s trembling. _ She noted.

And indeed, the hands were holding onto her jacket so tightly it was as if Kyok was the only driftwood that kept Sayaka from drowning. There was dampness soaking through the front of her short, spreading outward at alarming rate.

Kyoko pitied her for the grief she suffered, but both observations only served to consolidate what she suspected. Her presence would only hurt Sayaka, no matter what short-lived joy they might share in the short span of time.

But even so, she could not let go of the warmth. She was trapped, perhaps destined to fall into such dilemma since the moment they met again.

“I finally…” Sayaka murmured against her. Each vibration amplified a thousand folds, threatening to shake her resolve. “…I finally found you. So please, don't think like that.”

Kyoko felt Sayaka nuzzling even deeper into her embrace, as she murmured, or perhaps prayed.

“Don't let this end so fast.”

Her hands combed through Sayaka’s hair. It was getting longer. Bluer than the summer sky, or the glistening lake from her memory.

“But when will you be ready?” She asked, and made a conscious effort to pull herself away. Her fingers caressed from her wet cheeks down, lingering at her lips for but a moment, before resting on her jaw.

She lifted her chin up, so that they had no other option other than looking directly into each other’s eyes.

She must let her know just how foolish this was.

The ceruleans gazed back at her, ready to surrender their master away, but yet also shining with tears of defiance.

Kyoko was unsure whether she was gazing at her sorrow, or simply the reflection of herself when she pressed further with the next question.

“Five years? Ten years?”

Sayaka shook her head. Yet it seemed like her gaze never once broke from Kyoko’s. She was trying to say something without uttering a word.

So Kyoko extended the deadline, despite the fact there was no way she could guarantee it. She indulged Sayaka’s wish anyway.

“Twenty? Forty?”

Sayaka shook her head again.

_ She’s being unreasonable, _ Kyoko thought.

And just then, Sayaka supplied her requirement.

“Forever would have still not been enough.”

Kyoko chuckled. Despite the grimness brought on by her forecast of the future, she simply could not help herself.

What a capricious princess.

“See? There's the problem.” She said, more gently than the situation should allow. “I may have magic, but I'm not a miracle worker. I can't fulfill such a willful wish. No matter how hard I try.”

But Sayaka smiled back.

“You can fulfill this wish at least.” Without Kyoko noticing, she had laced their fingers together. She leaned a little closer. Her breath tickled Kyoko’s nose, warm and desperate. “Ne, Kyoko.”

It was unfair.

She drew closer still, until it was impossible to tell where the red ended and the blue began.

“Mhmm?” Her voice was more tender than it had a right to be.

_ What do you want?  What can I give you? Tell me. _

“Kyoko.”

Her smile was so pure. So beautiful. She wanted nothing more than worship it for the rest of her life.

“Kiss me.”

Kyoko drew a sharp breath, resisting the urge to comply. The path ahead would lead to nothing other than tragedy, she knew that, but a part of her yearned for such miracle. She tilted her head up a little higher, so Sayaka’s posture was almost uncomfortable.

“There won't be any going back, you know.” She warned. “I'm extremely territorial.”

“You don't say.”

“And what happiness we can find won't last.”

“I know.”

“And likely you’ll have to spend some days alone. Maybe you'll be heartbroken. Maybe you won't ever heal.”

“Mm.”

“Are you sure you want to take that risk? Have you thought enough about whether this is really what you want? Can you take on this burden? Not just the eventuality. Can you endure my past, what we have, and what happens from now on?”

Sayaka reflected her seriousness.

“Time is running out. You said it yourself.” She declared. “It's precisely because of it that I have to. I can’t accept waiting around any longer. I don’t want to go through the gates of heaven thinking what we might have missed.”

“For all we know, there is no heaven anymore.”

“For all I know, heaven is the spot right next to you.”

Kyoko released her chin, half out of shock and half out of guilt.

“You…”

She thought she could scare her off, but in the end she was the one convinced.

Sayaka took her falling hand like it was the most natural thing in the world. She entwined their fingers together again, until Kyoko was certain she could feel the heartbeat radiating from her.

And the residue of the magic she provided - parts of her  _ soul _ \- seemed to sing with the symphony beyond voice.

She wondered what she had done in her past life to deserve something so good.

“I do.” Sayaka said. “There, I give you my words. In the depth of ocean or in the heart of inferno, if it means being with you, I do. So share with me, ne? I will give you my everything too. I will give you the sweetest in the whole universe. You like sweet things, right?”

_ What am I going to do with her? _

Kyoko sighed internally. She untangled her hand from Sayaka’s, only to cup Sayaka’s cheeks in her palms. She was cold and she was hot. They were the perfect balance together.

“I thought you told me not to have too much sweets.” She said half-heartedly.

“It's fine as long as it comes from me.”

Kyoko rolled her eyes.

Sayaka covered her hands with her own.

“It’s my birthday today, you know.” She whispered, with a meaningful smile. “And I give you my consent.”

It was beyond Kyoko’s ability to resist further. She surrendered to her desire, and to the girl she had spent chasing time and times again. To the happiness she was certain would follow.

As for the grief that would inevitably arrive, and the guilt weighing deep in her heart… she had no more space in her mind to care for them.

So Kyoko seized Sayaka by the waist, and pulled her up close. Until their bodies melted together. Until their hearts beat in synchronization. Until she was closer than she had ever been to her. Until their souls sang in harmony.

“Don’t regret it.” She said briskly.

And she should have waited for her reply, but the blaze of desire could not be contained. Their lips melted together in lifetimes of eagerness, desperately demanding more of each other. It cannot be stopped or even slowed.

But from the way Sayaka’s arms tightened around her, from the way her nails dug into Kyoko’s back, from the way soft moans escaped her soft lips, she didn’t seem to mind at all.

 


	30. Chapter 30

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: implied sexual interaction.

Mami didn’t return Yuma that night. In fact, she made no attempt to check in with her juniors throughout the day. Perhaps she had foreseen, quite correctly, the events that would transpire between them.

Kyoko brooded over the possibility, but only with half-hearted embarrassment, as she peered out of the large apartment window, through which silver light poured into the spacious room.

Despite the pondering, in truth she had only woken minutes ago. For once, the disruption in her slumber was not due to a nightmare. It left no less deep an impression in her mind, however, for the dream involved a bizarre setting in which she found herself floating in the depth of ocean.

But instead of despair, her heart was filled with a calm awareness. She understood her purpose, for the first time, in the vastness that she previously perceived as a threat. As a void that was all too keen on swallowing her whole.

So she waited in the depth, in the still confine of eternal uncertainty. Until at last, she felt something soft fell into her arms.

And she woke afterwards, to the moonlit room and a great sense of fulfilment. The fingernail marks on her back burned slightly, like fresh candle wax, and she was instinctively drawn to its giver, who slept soundly beside her.

 _How strange._ She reflected as she looked upon the face of the moon, and could not help the tug at the corner of her lips.

The moon seemed to smirk back, in a dreadfully pompous manner.

“You knew all along, didn’t you?” Kyoko said, to the friend who still remained but a fleeting shadow in her heart.

She wondered whether she would ever be able to utter that name again. A sentimental thought, no doubt, unsuitable for the kind of people they once were.

So instead, she smiled for long-lost memories and comradery, and muttered good-naturedly. “Your sense of humor still sucks, by the way.”

There was no reply - not that she expected one - and she was distracted shortly by the stirring by her side.

She leaned down.

“Did I wake you?” She murmured against her collarbone, spreading marks of passions over her already embellished skin.

Sayaka giggled, wiggling from the ticklish sensation. She raised a hand to lazily caress Kyoko’s cheek, her smile soft but dazzling. “Were you talking to them?”

Kyoko took a moment to consider her response. In her distraction, her teeth grazed lightly against delicate flesh, and Sayaka let out a half-sigh.

“The sadistic one, anyway.” She replied, before hastily returning to her work.

The laughter that followed was mixed with an enticing moan. Sayaka’s arms reached further, until they all but circled around Kyoko’s head. Her fingers tangled in the fiery mane as she pulled her even closer.

“You- hmm…”

Despite herself, Kyok felt a certain pride when she sensed Sayaka shivering against her. She climbed on top so she could continue without cranking her neck too much.

Sayaka shoved her playfully, without any real resistance. Another moment of soft sighs and encouragement passed before she found her thoughts again.

“You two always got along.” She said wistfully.

Kyoko took the trouble to stop her endeavor and look up. Sayaka seemed to just realize how her statement might be interpreted. The puffed up, pink cheeks nearly cracked Kyoko’s attempt to look seriously concerned.

“Was that jealousy?”

From the way Sayaka reacted, she was quite certain she had failed. Not that it mattered. She doubled over in utter amusement.

Sayaka shoved her a little harder this time. “Uh. You suck.”

“Oh yeah.” Kyoko said, grinning suggestively. “I try.”

Sayaka rolled her eyes in exasperation, but her blush deepened.

Kyoko laughed. She never imagined she would ever have moments like this. And she intended to make the fullest of it.

“Well?” She traced her thumb lightly over Sayaka’s lips. “You haven’t answered me.”

Sayaka made a face. And as she stuck out her tongue, she accidentally licked the digit still resting against her lips.

The touch was brief but electric. Like a spark that ignited a fire, sending Kyoko reeling after the effect.

Only she did not have much time to be stunned by the contact.

“Maybe.” Sayaka whispered with a wicked grin and a taunting look. “What’re you gonna do about it?”

Kyoko did not hesitate, she leaned down once again, and pulled her into a deep kiss.

Despite today being the first day they shared such intimate gesture, both were unreasonably familiar with the routine. Their lips moved in perfect synchronization, fitting together so naturally that one had to  wonder whether their flesh had secretly melted as they made contact.

When they pulled apart, it was mainly due to a lack of oxygen.

Kyoko thumbed Sayaka’s swollen lips, which parted in an effort to regain her breathing. She looked devastatingly lovely like this. Kyoko thought to herself. Sprawled beneath, panting with passion, cheeks tainted with deeper shade of red. It was like she had somehow dyed her own color onto her. Marked her.

Sayaka gave her a brief smile, and began lightly sucking on her thumb.

Kyoko inhaled sharply. They had been at it for the whole afternoon already, and although it made her lightheaded with joy, she could not help the small doubt in the corner of her mind.

_Isn't this kind of wrong? We're underage._

“Technically we are about ninety months older.” Sayaka replied dismissively. “That makes us what, 22?”

She didn’t realize she had voice her thought out loud. It probably didn’t matter.

“Why'd you gotta bring up math?”

Sayaka hummed to herself, as if deciding which was the best answer. “Legal age to marry is 21.”

A part of her was taken aback by the rapidity in which their relationship seemed to be moving. They had only really met a few months ago, didn’t they?

Then the other part of her - the part that had seen much and remembered, that which was still somewhat groggy, but much stronger - simply chuckled and shook her head. Like she fully expected this development, and was completely fine with it.

“Hate to break it to you, but I’m still dirt poor. You won’t be getting a ring any time soon.”

It felt strange to hear herself say such thing. The sensible part of her still tried to grasp the changes this turn of event implied. Yet…

“Doesn’t matter. We kinda consummated the marriage already.” Sayaka hit her arms in feigned anger. “And you haven't even asked me out on a date!”

Kyoko shrugged. “I can do that tomorrow. The order’s not that important.”

And it wasn’t. Because she could barely recall how their fates got entangled together in the first place. They had been separated, sometimes at their own accord, and sometimes by the extraordinary forces beyond their control. But they had also met, again and again, across all the different timelines and universes.

And none of it mattered either. Not at that moment, anyway. The beginning of their tales seemed as far away as the end, because the present was more than enough.

“Of course it is!” Sayaka protested.

 _She’s still a helpless romantic._ Kyoko remarked internally. This was one of the trait she adored about Sayaka, though there were instances she was more compelled to knock her out cold and tie her up.

Hmmm. That’s an idea.

She was aware her smile revealed too much, but given the performance she had seen earlier, she was almost certain Sayaka wouldn’t object if she ever brought it up.

“You don't want another round then?”

But that would be for another day. Tonight was for a different kind of intimacy. They still had time for all the antics and exploration. She vowed she would devote herself into this belief.

Sayaka, perhaps aware of her internal turmoil, reached up to cup her face.

Kyoko allowed herself to be pulled in, closer and closer, until all she could see was the ocean in her dream looking back at her.

This must be what she had been searching for. She thought. Because how else could anyone explain this? How else could anyone explain the sweetness she tasted every time she brushed against the pale skin, what else could cause her heart to stir when she heard every hitched breath?

Just before their distance completely vanished, Sayaka whispered.

“Shut up and kiss me.”

 

* * *

 

Another couple hours later, Sayaka was nestled quite comfortably against Kyoko’s shoulder. There was no doubt she would be sour all over tomorrow, but to her the discomfort felt like a blessing. She was elated to wear the many marks from Kyoko.

After years of coldness and loneliness, the warm presence next to her was addictive. She played with Kyoko’s hair - even they felt warm - twirling the strands around her fingers.

She would have been contented to wait, and she was, when she first recognized the significance of this world. She would have waited for a thousand years, just for a night like this. But alas, the more time she spent with Kyoko, the more she came to yearn for her. For her kindness. For her passion and devotion.

And why shouldn’t she pursue it? There was no knowing what would happen after they departed from this world. Perhaps they would meet again in a different paradise, or perhaps they would be utterly lost. She never bothered to learn where those who weren’t Puella Magi went after they passed (there was neither need nor desire for such knowledge). Truthfully, the part that remained her within the immeasurable being of the Law of Cycle spent most of its energy paying attention to learn of the different timelines. The never realized potentials and the occured, and of course, the person she left behind.

She paused her fiddling.

“Ne, Kyoko?”

Kyoko turned halfway to her. “Hmm?”

She wondered whether it was a good idea to bring it up. After all, she was willing to bet her voice that Kyoko still felt guilty about what happened in the last world.

“Do you think she saved her?” She blurted out before she could stop herself.

Understandably, Kyoko’s face fell - though just for a moment, she quickly schooled herself into a neutral expression. She turned back to stare at the ceiling, quiet.

Sayaka berated herself internally. There was better way to broach the topic, and better time for sure. Tonight was supposed to be special. It was a night she wanted to commit into her memory, and she did not want to ruin it.

Just as she was about to apologize, Kyoko replied.

“I want to believe it.” She said, but it did not sound like she was addressing Sayaka. “I have to believe that we can right the wrongs we did. That even when people are gone, they are not lost.”

Sayaka wrapped her arms around her waist and hugged her as tightly as she could.

“I didn’t mean to bring you down.” She murmured into her side.

Kyoko chuckled. “You didn’t.” Her reassurance sounded sincere enough. “When you’ve hit rock bottom, the only way to go is up.”

She didn’t mean to, but she remembered all those timelines when things went from bad to terrible to utter despair in the span of days, and sometimes hours.

“Oh, you’d be surprised.” She muttered.

Kyoko laughed. “I’m tougher than you. I can say that much.” She poked her teasingly. “Now stop sulking. I’m fine with this conversation.”

“Mmmmhmmm.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” She turned to her side so they could face each other.

“Nothing.” Sayaka snickered, before her thoughts once again returned to the worry that refused to leave her. “Just…”

“Spill it.”

It wasn’t said with any impatience. On the contrary, those two words were overflowing with understanding and affection.

Sayaka drew in a deep breath.

“I know our time is limited. I know this time we won’t get a second chance.” Even though she did not mean for it to sound so definite, once she voiced out those thoughts aloud, she could not help but feel they were the truth. And it depressed her. Her voice faded to a whisper. “This is it. This is the end we’ve been waiting for.”

Kyoko took a moment to consider whether it would be worth it to remind her they did not know that for sure. She decided it wasn’t.

“Are you afraid?” She asked softly.

“A little bit.” Sayaka admitted with a half truth. It was evident from the way her arms tightened just a little more around Kyoko. “But I’m okay as long as you are by my side.”

Kyoko wrapped her arm - the one that wasn’t pillowed under Sayaka - to pull her into whatever security she could provide. Truthfully, it was not the admittance, but the reliance that struck her.

“You could have had a new life.” She murmured quietly as the realization washed over. The gravity of her responsibility made feel slightly weak. “You could become anything you wanted. Maybe even date that guy you’ve been crushing on forever.”

Sayaka snickered.

“Was that jealousy?” She returned the teasing from earlier. But then reached up and pecked Kyoko on the lips. “No. He may be my first crush, but you…”

Kyoko stopped breathing for a moment.

“You are my first love.” Sayaka smiled at her. She could see her reflection in her eyes, and there was only her - nothing else. Nobody else. “And last. I won’t accept anyone other than you.”

Kyoko deepened their kiss. The passion that had settled into a steady warmth flared up again. Her fingers roamed along Sayaka’s curve, tracing the peak of her breasts, the crevice of her waist, and kept going lower.

But aside from desire, there was just a tad of desperation added to the touch.

“I don’t think I’ll be okay with you falling into despair again.” She said.

She had already failed her so many times. It was impossible to bear knowing the girl in her arm would suffer from grief one more time.

“I won't. I’ll try to keep you alive for as long as possible.” Sayaka murmured between soft moans. Her body arched when Kyoko’s finger reached a particularly sensitive spot. “Ah…”

“Do you promise?”

“Promise.” Sayaka twisted hotly about. “But I did consider… hmmm… following you if you ever…”

Kyoko squeezed down on the inside of her thighs to stop her from continuing.

“I appreciate it, but no.” And to stress the point, she forced her hands away from where they were, to cup Sayaka’s face in her palms. “I want you to live a long, happy life.”

Sayaka nuzzled into her hands. “I know.” She sighed, mournfully, before an idea came to her mind. “What do you say we adopt Yuma?”

Kyoko raised her brow again.

“She’s not _that_ young.”

“Let a girl dream.” Sayaka complained, though her tone was way too tender for it to be a legitimate criticism. “I want a child with you.”

The whole world seemed to lit up. Kyoko was certain she would burst from joy and pride.

“Well,” she flipped Sayaka onto her back, straddling her and smirking down with a predatory glint in her eyes. “I mean, we can try. I think I heard about this magic once…”

Sayaka smiled too and pulled her down. “Come here then.”

Their lips met in another intense exchange of passion. When they parted briefly, Sayaka whispered against Kyoko, the one wish she carried across all time and space.

“Never let me go.”

And in the once colorless room, to the vast unknown beyond, they painted their colors onto each other, giving meaning and life to where there was a void, again and again.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so concludes the story.
> 
> My gratitude to you, who had read this story. Thank you for giving my work a glance. And to all those who left some form of support (kudos, and especially comments). I hope this story had provided satisfactory entertainment to you.
> 
> To be honest, these two last chapters were among the first scenes I finalized in this story. Everything else was kind of built around it. The story lost track several times during its course (as you might have noticed), and at the middle of it I wasn't sure if I could finish putting all the pieces together. A significant amount of parts could use further refinement, and it was my intention to fix them when I finish this last chapter. But now, well, now we'll have to see.
> 
> I do want to continue creating and I do have another shorter KyoSaya story in mind (technically on paper, in summary form). If you liked this story, or parts of it, I hope you will join me in the new story when (or if) it comes out.
> 
> Cheers.


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